Lady Cynthia of Abertaine is trapped. Not only has her fiancé, Sir William Leyborne, not been back to the castle for over ten years, but she’s also not a titled Lady. Lord Simon of Cowell, a renegade warlord aligned with Mordred against Arthur and his Knights, has declared himself sovereign over Leybourne Castle and everything that once belonged to Sir William-- including Cynthia.
Sir Constantine, Knight of the Round Table, has come to the shire to give Cynthia the news that her fiancé has fallen in battle. With him is William’s oral will giving all he owns to Cynthia as though they had been wed. But when he finds Cynthia and discovers the shire under the control of an evil warlord, he knows he cannot leave without first driving Simon and his soldiers from the land.
Drawn together by an attraction older than time, Cynthia and Constantine soon discover that though a vow made by a knight’s honor has brought them together, it may just also cost them their lives.
She pulled the arrow tighter, her heartbeat rising. She need only let go.
Suddenly the bow was snatched from her hand from behind. The arrow once aimed straight and true at her adversary's heart fell harmlessly to the ground. Before she could react, she felt a hand grab her arm.
"In the northern part of the kingdom, that would be murder boy," a distinctly male voice announced.
Held nearly immobile by a powerful grip, Cynthia watched powerlessly as Lord Simon mounted the horse that had been brought to him, heel it into motion and gallop away.
Angrily, she spun as much as the grasp allowed, confronting the man who had hindered her. "I had him in my sights! How dare you interfere with--" Her words died as she locked gaze with the most incredible pair of brown eyes she'd ever seen. She stared, spellbound and open mouthed at their owner.
Hair, the color of a field of wheat, fell to his shoulders. His mouth was outlined with short, carefully groomed facial hair that drew her attention to his full lips. Broad shoulders sat atop what appeared to be a brawny chest, the impression aided by the strength of his grip. She felt the muscles in his arm encircling her waist flex and then release, the pleasant sensation sending warmth through her.
Never before had she allowed a man, especially such a handsome one, to be so close.