19
It was like being awakened from a wet dream and tossed into boiling water. One moment, Lance had Gwin in his arms, her lips so close to his. That was the dream he had every night, an almost kiss because even in his secret dreams he wouldn’t cross the line of impropriety. There had never been a sword in his dream.
The business end of a blade wasn’t just pointing at his gut. No, that was a normal dream for him. A night terror, that was par for the course for men of action. Hell, it was a normal Tuesday for him to be on the receiving end of a weapon in his wakefulness. But never her.
There was a blade pointing at Gwin’s breasts. No. This would not do. But what could he do?
His first instinct was to go through the sword at his gut to get to the one at her breast. That maneuver would lea
