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"Please," she said, struggling against him. Katharine tried to move away from him but couldn't. His mouth moved over hers, but the kiss wasn't sweet. His mouth took hers until she tasted blood. His tongue delved against hers and his leg came between hers as he pushed her back into the trunk of the willow tree.

"You are mine, princess," he breathed into her neck before he lightly bit into it. His bite caused goose pimples to break out on her arms, and she shivered.

"No, things are different. This is a different place," she gasped, trying so hard to fight the urge to give into him.

"You and I are the same, princess."

Katharine shivered in the cold and at his words.

"No we aren't," she argued.

Mohammed held her body against the tree.

"I have not come this far to play games," he said. His hand moved to her low-cut gown and moved his fingers inside. Without tearing her dress, he pushed her breasts up and moved the dress down. He took one tight nipple into his warm mouth. She whimpered.

"You dress like a whore here. Then play the whore for me," he said. His fingers threaded into her hair as his mouth touched her other nipple, which was tight and wanting the attention. She moaned in spite of herself.

She felt herself come alive as she pressed into him. She couldn't help it.

"Moan for me, princess. I remember how you like it," he whispered in her ear. Katharine blushed in shame. She wanted him so badly.

His hand wrapped around her long, blonde hair and pulled down on it so her chin jerked up. His mouth touched her sensitive neck and he pressed into her body. He was hard for her. Ready to take her.

"If I fucked you right here, would you even try and stop me?" he asked cruelly.

Katharine almost cried out. She wanted him to lift up the hem of her dress. She would have given her soul to feel his thick cock deep inside her. She could feel her juices damp inside her.

"Please," Katharine said as she tried to fight her conflicting emotions.

Mohammed watched her face and saw her conflict. He released her, pushing her away from him, and she stumbled. She pulled her bodice to cover herself and tried to pull her hair back, but her hands were shaking.

"You shouldn't have come," she told him. She was trying hard not to cry in front of him. "You have to go," she continued.

"I am not leaving England without you," Mohammed told her, before he left her alone underneath the willow tree.

Katharine stood staring after him, incredulous. Had this proud, intelligent man really come all the way from Arabia to bring her back with him?

Her heart shuddered at the thought. What were the lengths he would go to keep her? And what would he do when the betrothal was announced tonight?

Kat trembled at the thought. But suddenly, deep down inside, she felt alive again.

Chapter 11

Anne sipped her champagne as she stood next to her husband. She watched the couples whirl across the floor and spied Katharine's friend Frances in the arms of the squire's son, Samuel.

Samuel was of good stock and expected to take over his father's holdings when the time was right. Anne thought they might make a good couple; after all, Frances could not expect to marry too highly, given her own status, she sneered.

"Edward, where is Katharine? I haven't seen her in a goodly ten minutes," Anne asked.

Edward smiled down at his wife and replied, "First you decide she is too morose, and now you worry she is gone astray?"

"Ridiculous!" Anne admonished him lightly.

But Edward was worried for his daughter. Since she had returned to them, she was altered, and Edward feared for her. She had been such a spirited young girl, intelligent and beautifu

l; fortune hunters had come after her. However, her keen intelligence kept the men at bay, and those who might have prospered with lesser women were sent packing.

"My dear, I have come upon a wonderful idea!" Anne said excitedly as she gripped her husband's arm.


Tags: Nicola Italia Historical