The Forgotten by Marly Mathews Read Free Book Online Page A

any other woman’s butt that he’d ever seen. She slipped the shift over her head and he watched as it draped her curvaceous body, clinging to every beautiful inch of her.
    He used every ounce of willpower he had to keep himself from crossing the short distance between them and taking her into his arms.
    His libido had been unusually strong since he’d emerged from that bloody forest. He knew why, as he’d been starved of female companionship for one-hundred and fifty years. Before the dark enchantment, he’d been quite the randy bugger, and had been a libertine of the worst sort.
    It was safe to assume that his sexual drive wasn’t going to cool down any time soon. Algernon had encouraged him to be a rake and told him to sow his wild oats while he was young and had the looks of a God.
    “From the way that the Princess spoke I was led to believe that you were a decrepit old lady. I thought I was going to meet a hag, not a beautiful maiden.” He heaped on the charm, hoping to see some kind of a change in her unreadable visage.
    She still looked as if she had a wall up, she would be hard to reach, and yet, he wanted to rise to the challenge. He knew exactly how it felt to have demons.
    She snorted, and then turned back to look at him as she settled the red velvet frock she’d pulled out of the wardrobe around her hips. She pulled out a metal belt and wrapped it around her tiny waist. He noted that the belt was equipped with a small dagger—the same small dagger that his mother had carried.
    “I’m no ingénue but I’m certainly not an old lady,” her tone was disapproving. He’d struck a nerve when he’d told her he’d expected to meet a hag.
    “I can see that, now,” he whispered, causing her to flush when he perused her body intensely. “I actually preferred you in the towel—you looked so damn delicious with it wrapped tightly around your body.”
    Her face went beet red at that last remark and she lunged herself at him, stopping just short of impacting with his body on the bed. She must have realized that if she did do that it would put her past the point of no return.
    “How dare you speak so impudently to me,” she hissed, giving him a scathing glare. She spoke in a regal tone. One thing was for certain. Nerienda had not been born a common bastard like he.
    He noted the way her eyes lingered as they sized him up. He was glad that she was just as pleased with his body as he was with hers.
    He wished she’d give into her hot head and strike him so they could wrestle a bit and then have a good old-fashioned tumble on the bed. If she gave into temptation, their relationship would be complicated, and complications only opened her up for the sting of betrayal, and she could not deal with another man hurting her so vilely.
    “Why are you here?” she asked coldly, leaching all emotion from her voice. “And pray, do me the courtesy of telling me how long you shall stay.”
    “I’ve come home. I wanted to see my mother’s grave and I also wanted to help restore this village and surrounding area to the glory it once enjoyed. As for the length of my stay—I suppose I’m back for good. Unless of course I’m called to action by Grifon and Ava.”
    “You misunderstand me. I want to know why you are here in this Tavern…surely, you have a Palace, Castle, or Manor House to build. You might have been born a Tavern wench’s son, but you’ve risen high through the ranks. I know that the king bestowed the lovely title of duke upon you.”
    “I am in no rush to build any monuments showcasing my wealth and newfound station in life. Those worldly goods are not as important to me as reconnecting with my roots. I want to free my father’s holdings from Lord Ulwyn’s clutches. He doesn’t deserve them. He is not the Earl of Wythley, so therefore, he doesn’t deserve to sit on their ancestral seat of power within Wythley Castle.”
    She gasped and moved even closer to him, suddenly seeing his keen resemblance