Page 84 of Come the Morning

She controlled her temper and did so. He beckoned her closer, setting down his chalice. He slipped an arm around her, pullingher tight against him. With his free hand he lifted her chin, and touched her lips with his own. She was instantly aware of the power of his body heat again, a warmth and vitality in his touch that seemed to sear from his caress into the length of her. His lips moved slowly over hers, with an amazingly gentle force. Her mouth parted. She tasted and breathed him again, felt her heart thundering to great new heights of speed. Her limbs felt liquid, and she was glad that he held her, for she couldn’t stand. She had expected this to be terrible. No, perhaps she had wanted this to be terrible. It should have been duty, and she should have never felt this sense of searing excitement, of wild heat, racing throughout her, touching her limbs, touching within …

His lips broke from hers. “This won’t do,” he said.

She straightened, stunned, then finding strength not to waver, and to step back from him, back to sanity.

“What won’t do?” she demanded distractedly.

“That gown.”

“My gown—”

“Off with it.”

Once again, she felt her temper soar. He was playing with her.

“My love,” he murmured, picking up his wine again, “you might break your jaw, you know, if you clench your teeth any tighter. And you do have wonderful teeth.”

“Do I?” she breathed. “How convenient. Yours are wondrous fair as well!”

He smiled, black lashes lowering over his crystal gaze for a brief moment. Then he was looking at her again. “So you’ve noticed that my teeth are decent.”

“For a Norman’s.” She knew, instinctively, that there was nothing she could say or do to irritate him more. And she was floundering. Afraid of his touch, longing for it, so afraid of the way he could make her feel, so afraid of what she would feel when they had taken it even farther.

He maintained his casual smile. She knew that it was forced. “Off with it,” he told her softly. Even his voice touched her. Burned within.

She shook her head. “This isn’t fair at all. I—”

“You swore to meet me here, in payment for your freedom. Then, you promised to keep that first vow in return for the courtesy of escaping the fortress. Come, my love, be bold, be reckless, be daring. Gentle, sweet, sensual—and silent, as you promised.”

She wasn’t silent. Beneath her breath she began to revile him with every cutting word and oath that would come to her mind. But as she swore, she wrenched the gown over her head. It fell to her feet, and she was left with the cloak of her hair as her only garment.

He stared at her a long while. His eyes seemed black, but his expression remained impassive.

Then he smiled. “Now. Come to me.”

Again, she began to swear.

“Great Adin’s daughter, afraid?” he queried, arching a brow. “But then, you’re missing your knife and sword tonight, you’re without your weapons.”

“So are you.”

“Never,” he told her gravely. “Come …”

She stood before him. He took her hand and brought it to his face. She trembled as he moved her palm, and kissed it. It seemed a surprisingly tender gesture, and it took her off guard. Naked, she was very aware of the steel structure of his body, of the supple ripple of muscle as he drew a line down the length of her spine, bringing her closer.

“Feel free to seduce and repay me at any time,” he murmured.

She tensed, ready to slap him. He laughed, fingers gentle upon her jaw, lifting her face to his. “M’lady, you kiss me …”

She wasn’t certain if she managed the act, but their lips were touching. She didn’t feel the kiss so deeply, for she nearly jumped a mile at the touch of his hand. Moving over her, the length of her, breasts, ribs, waist, hips, belly, breasts again … she nearly shrieked aloud, she felt as if she shook inside and out, the heat that filled her was unbearable, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand, couldn’t move, could justfeelhim …

Then he suddenly set her from him. She willed herself not to waver, stumble, fall. He was staring at her, eyes almost black in the firelight again. “Well, so you do know how to pay your promises,” he said flatly, adding softly. “And you are very near the absolute perfection legend claims you to be.” He lifted a hand, incredibly, dismissing her.

She just stared at him for a moment. Then it dawned on her that he didn’t intend to demand any conjugal rights that evening. He had forced her to do all this just to prove that he was now the great laird and master. It was revenge, indeed.

“You bastard!” she said quietly.

“Maybe. Maybe you’ve simply run me ragged, and I don’t choose to wear myself out wondering where I shall be looking for you next. Go to bed.”