An orphan and a man who has fought for his own survival, Wulfe is a Templar knight sworn to the order for life. He will defend the order and his brethren to his last, but protests when he is included in a mission to deliver a package to Paris on the cusp of an attack on Jerusalem. The assignment so vexes him so that he seeks distraction in a Venetian brothel. Wulfe does not expect to encounter a courtesan of beauty and wit, her appeal for his assistance—much less his own desire to fulfill her request...
Christina recognizes immediately that the grim knight offers the chance to escape a despised life and reclaim her legacy. All she has to do is convince Wulfe to accompany her out of the city, a challenge that demands more than the power of her touch—when Wulfe is attacked, she seizes the opportunity to prove her value to him and his quest, uncertain whether her wits will be sufficient.
As attacks mount and danger engulfs the small company, Christina is the one who guesses the contents of the Templar package—and holds the key to its successful delivery. Wulfe is shocked to realize that she has awakened the heart he forgot he possessed—and when she risks herself to see his mission completed, he must choose between his duty and his newfound love...
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Historical / MedievalThis is the second book in my Champions of St. Euphemia series of medieval romances.
Wulfe could not believe his ill fortune. The list of his woes was long indeed, and he ground his teeth as he marched through the twisted streets of Venice in search of relief.
First, he had been compelled to leave Jerusalem just when that city faced a challenge to its survival as a crusader holding. As a knight and a Templar, he knew his blade should be raised in defense of the Temple, not undertaking some errand that could have been managed by a clerk or lay brother. He had joined the order to fight for justice, and there could be no greater cause than the defense of the Holy City.
Worse, this duty demanded that he ride all the way to Paris to deliver said missive, which meant that by the time Wulfe returned to Outremer, any battle might be completed. He might miss the opportunity to defend what he loved best, which was an abomination by any accounting.
Thirdly, he had only the appearance of leadership of the party that traveled with him. In fact, he had to cede to the dictate of Gaston, a former brother of the Temple who secretly was in command of this quest. That a knight who had left the order was more trusted by the preceptor in the Jerusalem Temple than Wulfe was salt in the wound.
That Gaston made choices Wulfe would never have made, and Wulfe had to present them as his own notions, was galling. It was Gaston’s fault that the mission had so nearly failed at Acre, for Gaston had insisted upon riding for that port instead of departing more quickly from the closer port of Jaffa. Wulfe snarled that he should be blamed for such a close call.
Though it was somewhat mollifying that Gaston had defended the party alone when they had been attacked and might have paid for his error with his own life.
Still, had the choice been Wulfe’s, no one would have been compelled to render any price at Acre.
It was sufficient to make his blood boil.
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German
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Unavailable for translation.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Evelyn T M Martins
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Author review: Evelyn is a very good communicator and keeps me in the loop, and is very enthusiastic about the books. |
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Spanish
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Unavailable for translation.
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