DESTINY'S WOMEN The wild heart of a warrior beat in the breast of Alena, daughter to a queen and mother to a king. A Celtic princess, she resolved never to bend to the invader's rule. But how could she foresee that the iron fist of Rome would stroke her soul with a velvet glove of passion? The glory that was Rome was embodied in Marcus Valerius. Prefect of the VIIth Legion. Intrepid commander of heroes. Now newly come to Britain, he would ensure the peace for his emperor. Relentlessly. Completely. And despite the wiles of a tall and tawny barbarian goddess with witchcraft in her lips!

A mountain of a man was Sir Richard Fitzhugh. Tall. Dark. Fearsome in every aspect. Formidable in battle. Yet Mellisynt of Tremont saw not the warrior but her wedded lord. A man of gentle compassion. Who could free her spirit—and blazingly awaken her long-slumbering desire! What an enigma was Mellisynt of Tremont, Richard Fitzhugh declared! For beneath shapeless widow's weeds, his new-wed lady wife was a creature of boundless passion and generous soul. He'd made his brideclaim with a pledge of honor and an eye to ambition. But could she capture his very heart in her own campaign d'amour...?

She rose from the water like a nymph, dressed only in sea foam and a wild mane of midnight hair. This was Phaedra, a daughter of Sparta, a woman who could easily lure a man into dangerous waters - where Alexander of Athens would willingly drown. He abducted Phaedra as a prelude to battle, then tempted her with his raw virility and laughing blue eyes. But yielding to this golden-haired warrior would betray all that she was. Yet to refuse his love would deny all that she was meant to be!