Love's Blazing Ecstasy Read Online Free PDF

face of the woman whose touch he could still feel upon his brow. Her touch had been gentle, yet strong. Her lips had been so soft, her skin so smooth. The goddess Minerva herself could not have so inflamed his senses, and yet she had been frightened of his kisses.
    Throwing the cloak round his shoulders, he clutched it tightly around him as if by so doing he could bring back the woman whose image was emblazoned on his mind’s eye. Again fear overcame him. What if she had been captured by those naked savages and forced to pay for coming to his rescue? What if at this very moment she were being held prisoner? He longed to go in search of her, but she had made it clear that he was to wait for her and not leave the sanctuary of the cave.
    Valerian waited until the sky turned dark gray, and then had not the patience to wait longer. Visions of Wynne lying injured somewhere assaulted him. What if she had been thrown from her horse and even now lay bruised and bleeding upon the ground? Or worse yet, had been captured?
    “If anyone harms her, he will answer to me,” he vowed, picking up his sword and leaving the security of the cave.
    The night was warm, the sky cloudless. Valerian loved the forest; it was a paradise, thick with greenery and tall trees which stood against the sky like centurions. Clear springs bubbled forth from the earth, and he stopped to cup some of the cool water in his hands to refresh himself.
    A sudden rustle in the undergrowth put him on his guard. Valerian drew his sword and rose cautiously. Then he saw the small fawn in search of its mother. With a sigh he shrugged his shoulders and  continued on, careful to mark his trail so that he would be able to find his way back to the cave.
    A vine hidden by the underbrush caught around Valerian’s ankle and he fell to the ground with a thud. His hand brushed something soft, material of some sort, perhaps linen. With a feeling of dread he gathered the garment in his hand and held it up to see it in the moonlight. It was a woman’s gown, similar to Wynne’s. Drawing the gown to his chest, he closed his eyes, praying to his gods that she had not come to harm. Rising to his feet he fought his way through the thick vines and bushes until he came to the edge of a huge lake.
    Wynne was standing there, her arms outstretched toward the sky, her blond hair fal ling in two braids to her waist like twin ropes of gold. She was like a glorious marble statue in the moonlight, arousing his desires. As if in a daze he started walking toward her, longing to make love to this beautiful young woman right there on the mossy bank.
    “O Mother of the Water of Life, hear me,” Wynne chanted in her language. “I thank you for the power you have given me. May my eyes be strengthened to see the glory of your bounty, my ears attuned to the sound of your voice, my heart be joined with you. I give myself to you now. May my spirit be cleansed from all evil.” Thus having spoken, Wynne dived into the cold waters, swimming around in the still pool, feeling peaceful.
    Valerian stopped in his tracks at her words, for although he did not know their meaning, he could sense that she was performing some kind of ritual. He ducked back into the foliag e so that she would not see him, troubled by what he had seen.  It had emphasized to him that she was a pagan; beautiful yes, but a non-Roman none-the-less.  Despite his attraction to her there would be no hope for a future together.
    F rom this moment on you will have to learn to control your passions, he thought to himself. This young woman is no mere slave upon whom you can quench your lust as you see fit. And she saved your life! He would be leaving soon and he knew that she deserved better than to be bedded and then left behind.  To take advantage of her for his own sexual needs would be the greatest injustice of all.
    With an effort he turned away and ran back through the forest, his heart pounding in his breast, but not entirely from his