He glanced back and saw the useless weapon in the rushes. His smile was slow, “You are deadly, are you not?”
“Not deadly enough,” she said, inching her chin up defiantly.
“Ah, Bliss,” he whispered, and his lips found hers in a kiss that was hot and anxious and spoke of hundreds of lonely nights of battle without a woman, without warmth or comfort, without joy.
Sorcha closed her eyes, refusing to gaze up at him, unable to look at his handsome face. With his free hand he rubbed her skin, touching her slowly, causing an unwanted heat to swirl in her blood.
“Come, Bliss,” he murmured against her ear, and she tingled inside. “I’m anxious yet, but I can take all night if needs be.”
Sorcha swallowed hard and her eyelids flickered open. Her gaze caught in the liquid gold of his, and she knew that he spoke the truth, that he was willing to give her the pleasure he expected in return.
“Just get it over with,” she said, her throat catching.
His teeth flashed white in the darkness before he turned his attention to her breasts and suckled again, as if he were a babe, grunting his pleasure, drawing a sweetness from her that she fought. She would go through with this ordeal, for Leah, but she would not enjoy it.
Oh, but his lips and teeth. She heard a deep moan and realized it was from her own throat. He moved against her, touching her abdomen with his manhood while his fingers delved deeper and found the nest of curls at the apex of her legs.
NO! His fingers probed gently and she nearly screamed. This could not happen, this could not! And yet her body was starting to change, her bones to soften, the middle of her to turn hot as melting wax.
She felt her knees being parted by his and closed her eyes.
“Come, Bliss, is it so bad?” he asked, poised above her, ready to conquer her, his one hand caressing her skin as he drew his fingers slowly from her breasts to the small of her back.
“Just be done with it.”
“Not until I know you are ready.”
“Never,” she said through clenched teeth, though her hips, damn them, lifted off the bed, anxious to give up her virginity to this monster.
“Look at me.”
“Nay.”
His hand moved to her chin. “Look at me,” he commanded, and her eyes flew open to search the golden depths of his. She saw savagery and anger, passion and desire, in his gaze. She was forced to stare at his massive body, his muscles gleaming in the firelight, his expression hard, his manhood ready. She swallowed back her fear and noticed the fresh wound in his thigh. He winced a little as he shifted.
“Finish this, m’lord,” she hissed, “or leave me go!”
His body tensed and he glared at her. “As you wish!” Jaw clenched, he moved as if to take her, but instead he hesitated and stared at the charm dangling from her neck. His eyebrows drew together as he yanked and the string broke. Sorcha feared the tiny twigs would be crushed in his big hand. Lips tightening, he leveled his eyes at hers and stared at her face long and hard in the firelight. Recognition slowly dawned in his eyes. “Christ, Jesus,” he muttered. “I’ve seen sacrilege such as this before … ’tis the work of a witch.”
“Isolde of Prydd, my nursemaid.”
“For the love of God—”
“So you finally believe me.” Sorcha felt immense relief as she snatched the necklace from his hand.
“What the devil are you doing here?” he said, rolling off and swearing under his breath.
Leaping from the bed and pulling the fur coverlet to cover her trembling body, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she didn’t have to go through with her part of the bargain, but her silly body felt disappointed and empty. “I told you a dozen times over that I’m here for my sister. Leah.” Where were the bloody knives—both of them buried in the rushes? Curse it all. Bending down, trying to cover herself, she eyed her tormentor while her fingers searched the thick rushes.
In the firelight she saw his brows draw together. She took a step closer to the bed, still feeling the floor, cut herself on one dagger, but grabbed the hilt and curled her fingers over the handle.
“But how?” he whispered, his eyes narrowing on her. His expression turned murderous and his eyes grew dark. “How did you—whoever you are—get past the guards?” he asked, and his voice had the deadly ring of a proud man who suddenly realized he’d been taken for a fool.
She stood near the bed, her dagger glinting in the fire-glow. “ ’Twas easy.” Keeping him at bay with the knife, she managed to hold the coverlet over her body as she searched for her clothes with her bare foot.
“Come over here, closer,” he commanded, and she saw the gleam in his eyes as he climbed out of the bed and stood naked before her.
So he’d changed his mind. The beast had lied. He had no intention of releasing Leah, he’d only played with her. Shamed to her soul that she’d nearly lain with him, she shuddered as he approached, and warned, “Don’t come any closer.” She waggled the knife menacingly and saw her discarded tunic.