Violently, she pulled away, taking a couple of desperate, shaking steps before she turned to face him. Her chest was heaving, her hands clenched at her sides. She must have looked like a madwoman. She took in a gulp of air.
“You have not agreed to your part of the bargain,” she reminded him, and was not surprised by the hoarseness of her voice.
He looked as if their impassioned embrace had disturbed him not at all. If it had not been for the faint flush on his tanned cheeks, the glitter in his eyes, Rose would have believed him untouched by their encounter.
“Do you remember what I said in the stable?” He surprised her with the question.
Rose glared at him, her weakness receding as she regained some control over her senses.
This was better; she was really angry now. “What you said? Do you mean the part where you were willing to betray me to Fitzmorton for a few more marks? Or, Captain, do you mean the part where you admitted to wanting my lands and getting a child on me?”
He shook his head at her in mocking disapproval. “None of that, lady. I mean the part when I told you to trust me.”
Rose stared at him a moment more. She felt confused, but didn’t want him to see it. Surely he did not think she could trust him now? Did he think her a fool, to believe any man just because he asked her to do so?
“I trust no man,” she said coldly.
And Gunnar believed it.
She had trusted him, for a time. He remembered her asking for his word the first night there, and then by the Mere when Miles had come, her fingers resting so trustingly in his. Aye, she could deny it all she wanted, but Gunnar knew she had trusted him and, by Odin, she would trust him again.
But, for now, Gunnar knew he had no option but to secure her obedience in any way he could. Her life depended on it. And if that meant using fear and threats, then so be it.
He smiled a cold-blooded smile and fingered the hilt of his sword, as if his breeches were not stretched tight over the evidence of his lust. It amused him that she was having difficulty keeping her eyes away from that most eager part of him. She might no longer trust him, but she still desired him.
“Listen to me now, lady. You have a choice to make. Both Miles de Vessey and Arno want you—which do you prefer?”
She stared back at him defiantly, but she couldn’t hide the flicker of fear in her eyes.
He let his smile grow. “Aye, I thought not. Then listen to me, Rose, and listen well. I have sent Harold and his children with Alfred to safety—”
“I don’t believe you.”
He laughed harshly in surprise, quelled it. “Constance believes me.”
Rose’s lip curled. “Constance is half in love with you, Captain. You could be cutting her throat, and she would believe you meant her no harm.”
Now he was angry. She had finally gotten him angry. He saw her stiffen as she read it in his eyes, saw the doubt, but she did not step back, did not retreat, although she must be longing to. Aye, by Odin she was brave! A beautiful, courageous woman. Was Rose his fate—assuming he could save both their lives?
“Believe me,” he said quietly. “The miller and his children are safe, for now. I have hidden them away from Arno and his friends. I thought I might have a use for them later, when Fitzmorton comes. He will pay well for them.”
The lie was more successful than his attempt at the truth had been.
Her face went white. “You monster, have you—”
“I agree,” he said abruptly.
She stopped, confused, her chest heaving. “You…agree?”
“I agree to your bargain,” he explained. “Fitzmorton would pay me with coin, but I prefer flesh. You were right, Rose, when you thought to tempt me with your body. I could take you now, but you would fight me, and I want you willing. I want you as you were before.”
She had nothing to say.
“I’ll be back tonight, lady,” and he came right up to her, looming over her. She flinched but stood her ground. He put his lips against her ear. “Be sure to let me in,” he whispered.
She nodded.
“But for now, give me a token of your honesty. Show me you mean what you say.”