First Kiss Friday – Dragon Knight’s Sword by Mary Morgan

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Mary Morgan, author of medieval romance Dragon Knight’s Sword.  Welcome Mary!  Here’s the first kiss between Duncan Mackay and Brigid O’Neill.

Dragon Knight's SwordRising slowly, he stepped forward. “I give ye my word I will not have my way with ye. It will get verra cold, and I only have one brat. It would be wise if we shared.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before.”

Duncan just shrugged, keeping his focus elsewhere.

She snorted. “Can’t you just build a fire?”

He cocked his head at her, giving her a queer look. “Take a look around ye. Does it look like we can have a fire? Even if we could, I would not take the risk of alerting any others.

Her shoulders slumped. “Do you at least have some food and drink?”

A small smile curved his features. “Just a wee bit, but enough.”

Darkness enveloped them, except for the sliver of the crescent. The ale Brigid drank took some of the chill off, but the food was another issue altogether. Some dried piece of meat, too tough to chew on, and a chunk of stale bread was their meal. He wasn’t lying when he said he only had a wee bit. In the end, she had given up on the meat. He was as still as stone next to her, yet the heat radiating from him was better than a small fire. She caught a glance at his profile within the shadows; strength and power oozed off him. Each time she gazed into eyes of sea blue, she almost swooned.

It was ridiculous to feel this way. Hell! She didn’t even know him. What was she thinking? Behaving like some love-starved girl. She wanted to pinch herself from this dream that was turning into a nightmare, and she started to fidget.

“Do ye need some personal time?” Duncan’s voice was low and soft in the darkness.

“No,” she blew out, exasperated. She was wound so tight, and nowhere to go or even think. “How far will we have to travel tomorrow?” she asked.

“We will reach Cathal midmorning.”

“Hmmm, is he a good friend of yours?” She played with the edge of his plaid.

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“Okay, will he know how to help me?”

Now, he snorted his response.

It was like prying teeth from an elephant, Brigid thought. “Why do you want to ask him about a


“To cleanse the sword.”

Success! She finally got an answer. “Why do we need to cleanse the sword?”

Sweet mother Danu! Would the lass ever stop her infernal list of questions? He did not want words from her mouth. Nae, he wanted to bring forth sweet moans from those rosy lips.


“Bloody hell, woman!” He had to end this now. He cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. Big mistake, Duncan. His mind now screaming at him.

“Hush,” he rasped out. His lips barely grazing hers. The physical contact with her mouth sent shockwaves throughout his body. He released her suddenly and stood. “I’ll be back,” he uttered hoarsely.

Brigid couldn’t move, frozen by his touch. She drew forth her trembling hand to touch her mouth. His lips were like lightning on her body, and she quivered. Who was this scarred warrior, and why did she have this connection? And why did she let him kiss her?

Hugging her part of the plaid more firmly around her, she settled back more into the tree, letting the music of the night soothe her spirits. Within moments, Brigid drifted off to oblivion.



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