She shrugged and scooped the shawl from where it lay at her feet. “Shall I take the chair tonight?” She spoke with a nonchalance she didn’t feel.
His jaw moved as he ground his teeth. Another shiver rippled through her. There was forbidden excitement in taunting him.
“Devil take you,” he grated out, taking a step closer.
She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and hoped to heaven he didn’t take her at her word and make her sit up all night. The bedroom was warm, the parlor wasn’t. She’d be blue within an hour, and after the last two nights, the prospect of stretching out in a soft bed was alluring.
She angled her chin and sent him the haughty stare she’d employed on a hundred importunate suitors. “Do you mean to herd me into the bed, Gideon?”
“You…”
She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“You damned witch.” His eyes glittered with fury.
Her belly quivered with nerves. And something far more powerful. “Hardly polite.”
“Oh, hell!”
He lashed out and grabbed her around the waist. In one furious movement, he swept her off her feet and bundled her against his chest.
She’d waited for this, prayed for it. Even so, the shock of his arms holding her high, the heat of his skin through his shirt, his sheer vibrating fury made her gasp.
His hands tightened, and he stared straight ahead. “You asked for this,” he snarled, marching toward the bed.
Yes, she had. Thank the Lord, she’d got it. Tentatively, she slid one hand behind his neck, tangling her fingers in the silky hair at his nape. He didn’t seem to notice.
“How dare you use brute force against me?” She wanted to sound outraged. The best she could manage was a dull sulkiness. While all the time, her heart danced.
“You should have thought of that before,” he bit out.
The distant courtesy he cultivated before the world was gone. Instead, he was big, angry, commanding and breathtakingly male. A thrill sizzled through her right to her cold toes.
He reached the edge of the mattress. “Good night, Charis.”
Unceremoniously, he dropped her to the tumbled sheets in a tangle of legs and arms and silky white nightgown.
For a moment, she lay winded, staring up at him. He’d had no difficulty carrying her. For all his leanness, he was very strong. The thought sent another thrill rocketing through her.
“How…” She paused and sucked in another breath. “How are you going to keep me here?”
“I could tie you up.” He still sounded angry.
“You wouldn’t.”
“And gag you. Gagging seems a capital idea.”
She pressed down into the mattress, wondering why the idea of her husband binding her made her belly tighten with excitement. “I’d bite you,” she said breathlessly.
He closed his eyes as if praying for strength. “Devil take you, Charis…”
He turned away. Her heart sank as she waited for him to head for the door. After all her efforts, she’d lost. She ached with weariness. The day had been long and difficult for her as well as him. If she gave up tonight, would she have the will to fight again tomorrow?
Desperately, she scrambled for some argument to stop him retreating into the lonely fortress of the parlor. But she’d reached the limits of her persuasion. He’d touched her, and logic fled. All she knew was she’d do anything to make him touch her again.
He veered left before he exited the room and dropped onto a stool near the door. Violently he began to tug at his boots.
Relief welled. And wild rejoicing. She could hardly believe it. He stayed.