Otherworld Renegade
Claiming her felt like his destiny…but could prove to be his ultimate undoing.Desperate to flee a horrific arranged marriage, Princess Tanzi turned to the only man who could help. Lorcan Malone, infamous necromancer, had vowed to come to her aid whenever she needed him. And even as they traveled from the mortal world into the fantastical Otherworld, Tanzi knew her true need ran deeper than just a rescue.She was his enemy’s daughter. A renegade like Lorcan had no business craving a Fae princess, one intended for a greater calling. Yet he was powerless to resist the pull to do more than protect Tanzi…
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âYou and your feelings.â Tanzi gave him a teasing glance.
âYou and your lack of feelings.â He returned the look. Careful, Malone. This was starting to feel a lot like flirtation.
âIâve been discovering lately that I might be able to feel more than I believed I could.â Her sidelong glance was a combination of invitation and confusion.
To hell with caution, Lorcan thought as he pulled Tanzi into his arms. Heâd never know which of them was the most surprised. All he knew was that the action was long overdue.
JANE GODMAN writes in a variety of genres including paranormal, gothic and historical romance and erotic romantic suspense. She also enjoys the occasional foray into horror and thriller writing. Jane lives in England and loves to travel to European cities, which are steeped in history and romanceâVenice, Dubrovnik and Vienna are among her favorites.
A teacher, Jane is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children.
This book is dedicated to Denise Zaza, who believed in me.
Contents
âTrust me, Tanzi. If you need me, I will know.â
Those words, spoken by Lorcan Malone in the heat of battle, must have been a bit of Irish blarney. He probably didnât even remember who she was, let alone recall their strange encounter on that fateful day. So why, in this momentâwhen she was in more trouble than she could ever have imagined possibleâwas she suddenly experiencing a fierce longing for the bad-boy necromancer with the twinkling blue eyes?
Itâs called clutching at straws, she told herself. Itâs what youâre doing right now instead of facing reality and finding your own way out of this madness.
âWhat are you thinking, my daughter?â Moncoya, exiled King of the Faeries, watched her face.
âIâm thinking that defeat has unhinged you. That you have finally done what others have whispered of for years and taken leave of your senses.â Never before had Tanzi spoken so boldly to him. Defiance was the trait her twin sister, Vashti, proudly exhibited. Tanzi had always been the acquiescent one. Until now. There were some things she could not bow down and agree to. This was one of them.
Moncoyaâs perfect features hardened with fury. His blue eyes, so like her own with their sidhe ring of fire encircling the iris, lit with a brighter inner blaze. His fingers tightened on the arm of his chair so that his knuckles gleamed white in stark contrast to the black polish that decorated his perfectly manicured nails. Tanzi braced herself. His retribution would be swift and merciless. She couldnât hope to match him in strength, but she might be able to outrun him.
The outcome hung in the balance for seconds that stretched into minutes. Then Moncoya laughed. It was a brittle, mirthless sound that set Tanziâs teeth buzzing. She knew that laugh well. It had never boded well in her childhood. She didnât imagine things had changed. Unexpectedly, he relaxed back into his seat.
âMy child, you are overwhelmed by the honor I have arranged for you. I should have foreseen this.â He rose, draping a deceptively casual arm about her shoulders. âWalk with me awhile.â
They stepped through a set of double doors straight onto a sand-and-shingle beach. The entire island, known locally as the Silver Isle, seemed to be made up of sand. Even the ocher-hued cliffs looked ready to crumble into grit at the touch of a fingertip. Ferns, wild fennel and coarse bamboo grasses clung determinedly to soil that was a combination of granule and dust. Tanzi thought of her fatherâs palace, of the precisely laid-out gardens leading down to the elegant lake. She glanced back over her shoulder at the beachside villa they had just left. Sea breezes and salt water had taken their toll on its elegance so that it had a faded charm she doubted her father would acknowledge. In comparison with the soaring, white marble palace she had called âhomeâ for all her life, it was a shack. Moncoya was as out of place here as a diamond in a dung heap.
âYou made sure no one followed you?â Moncoya withdrew his arm from about her shoulders as they walked along the waterâs edge. Secrecy surrounded this hiding place. If he was discovered, he faced trial and inevitable execution.
âOf course.â Tanzi was offended at the question. Would he have asked Vashti the same thing? She doubted it. Yet we both trained with the Valkyrie. We are equally astute when it comes to warfare and subterfuge. It came back to the same weary argument. The same reason Tanzi had been summoned to be the recipient of his latest piece of âgood newsâ instead of her twin. Moncoya viewed Vashti as the son he had never had. Tanziâs only value to her father was as a pawn in the marriage stakes. Not this marriage, Father. The sacrifice you are asking of me is too great.
