It had been some time since Cree had done anything because he’d been forced to. His reputation alone was enough to make people fear and obey him and fear they should for he had no qualms about making those who disobeyed him suffer. As Dorrie was finding out now sitting in the stocks where she would remain for at least a week and others would learn from her misfortune… learn not to mistreat Dawn.
“You may take whatever food you wish from the kitchen or have meals brought here to you. I have already spoken with Turbett and he awaits your visits. ”
Her eyes turned wide and she went to gesture but he held up his hand.
“I will brook no argument. You will do as I say.”
This would not bode well for her with the villagers, receiving special treatment, especially when it came to food.
“I’m waiting for a response.”
Again her eyes widened for no one except Lila or Paul ever expected her to respond. She nodded, though she wished she could have protested. She would have much preferred to prepare her own meals.
“There are garments in the chest in the other room. Make use of them and make sure to get rid of the ones you wear now. They are nothing but rags and I will not see you in them again.”
He would expect a response and so she gave him a nod. What else was she to do? And that was a question that had haunted her. What was she to do with herself? Everyone had chores and she wished to be as productive as the others.
She tapped her chest and shrugged.
Cree looked puzzled at first and then he asked, “You have a question?”
She nodded.
“Ask me?”
She gestured slowly hoping he would understand her. She made a half circle and turned her palms upward.
“The rising sun,” he said pleased with himself.
She nodded and then took a step to the side and turned her hands over and brought them down.
“The sun sets,” he said.
She nodded and pointed back and forth between her hands then at herself and shrugged.
“You wonder what you are to do throughout the day.”
She nodded.
“That is an easy question to answer, Dawn.” He stepped toward her reaching out to slip his hand around her neck and ease her mouth to his and just before his lips claimed hers he said, “You will be available to me whenever I want you.”
Chapter Twenty
How could she be upset and yet find his kiss so enjoyable? She was angry with herself and angry with him and yet his kiss had her melting against him as his arm coiled around her waist and he yanked her hard against him.
She had never been kissed by anyone but him and she doubted that any kiss could prove as wonderful as his kisses. He kissed with brutal yet tender possessiveness setting her heart to pounding, her stomach fluttering and between her legs tingling. And worse, the more he kissed her the more she wanted him to.
His tongue did not shock her when it surged into her mouth this time, though she was surprised when her own played wickedly with his. And his groan let her know that he was enjoying their kiss as much as she was.
As their kiss turned urgent, insatiable, he grew hard against her and she grew wet.
He ripped his mouth off hers and took several steps away from her and paced shaking his head.
She suddenly felt vulnerable just as she had when they had been in the hut. He could have done whatever he wanted to her there, no one would have stopped him and no one would stop him now. She was more a prisoner than he had ever been and she would never know freedom.
He walked over to her and grabbed the back of her neck, his grip firm. “I know not what you do to me but know this… you are mine until I say otherwise.”
With that he stormed out the door.
Dawn felt her legs go weak and she wisely got herself to a chair to sit. How could she find such comfort and yearning in the arms of a man who with one command could decree her fate?
She glanced around the cottage. There was so much room for one person and the furnishings in good shape. It was truly a lovely place. And she need not worry about food; she would have as much as she wanted and then there were her new garments.
She got up and hurried into the other room lifting the lid to the chest at the foot of the bed. She could not believe her eyes. There were soft wool dresses and plush velvet ones that were not fit for the likes of her. She was relieved when at the bottom she found wool skirts and linen blouses and a pale blue shawl so tightly weaved that she could not resist wrapping it around her shoulders. She brushed her cheek against it, the wool so soft that it tingled her skin.