He glanced down at her with all-knowing eyes which made her stomach twist. “Come and see.” He fished in his tunic for a long iron key and swung open the door. “After you, Ariana.”
She picked up her skirts and walked past him, conscious of the need to brush against his broad chest. Had he stood so close on purpose?
The air inside the tower smelled dank after the freshness of the day and she had to blink until her eyes adjusted to the gloom. The stone steps were narrow and steep. She concentrated on where she was putting her feet, trying to stay away from the gray walls which ran with damp.
She had expected wealth and riches from the famed fortress of Darkmoor, not poor accommodation such as this.
All at once, apprehension sized her. She paused and felt the commanding bulk of Otto press against her back. “Why have you brought me here?”
“You will see.” His voice was gravelly and deep, giving nothing away.
Had he already discovered her treachery? Had he brought her here to imprison her—or dispose of her?
A thrill of fear made her blood run colder than the tower she was forced to ascend. But with the bulk of the earl behind her, she had no choice but to continue. At least she was walking towards a bright chink of sunlight; one which grew bigger and more welcoming with every twist of the stairs.
Finally, she emerged into a spacious, circular chamber. It was flooded with sunlight from several large windows which had been cut into the stone. After the gloom of the stairwell, the brightness was a blessing. Relief made her knees weaken and herchest heave inside the restrictive bodice of her gown. She put out a hand to a tapestried wall while she caught her breath.
Barely affected by the steep climb, Otto walked to the center of the chamber and put his hands on his slim hips.
“What do you think?”
She pushed back her hood and lifted her dark hair away from her neck while she cast her eyes around. Two upholstered chairs were positioned near an unlit fireplace and at the other side stood a large wooden table. Other than that, the room was empty.
“What is this place?”
“It is my tower.” He smiled slightly. “Come and look.”
He waved her over to one of the windows and after a moment’s hesitation, she came to join him. Side by side, they gazed out at an unparalleled scene. Ariana couldn’t help a gasp of surprise. Up here, they were far above the treetops. All of Darkmoor spread out before them in a patchwork of rolling fields. Here and there, small dots indicated cattle or men working the land. If she shaded her eyes, she fancied she could see a shimmering line on the horizon which must be the sea.
“It is beautiful,” she exclaimed, honestly.
“It is useful,” he corrected her. “From this tower, I can see to the very edge of our dominion. None can enter into Darkmoor lands from the east without my knowledge.”
His words made her knees start to tremble once again. Why was he telling her this? Had he somehow divined her intentions?
She made her voice light. “Surely you have castle guards for such a chore?”
He pursed his full lips, and she once again noticed his chiseled cheekbones, so sharp they might cut her. “Of course. We have many guards here. But I prefer to keep an eye on things myself.”
“You have no one to entrust with this task?” she questioned.
He shook his head.
Her pulse quickened and to buy herself time, she strolled casually over to another window. But she no longer had any interest in the view. “That must be very lonely for you,” she commented.
His hunter’s eyes followed her every move. She was trapped here, she realized. No one knew where she was. No one would hear her if she screamed. Though that mattered little, for even if her plight was known, no one in Darkmoor would dare stand against the earl. Far above them, the sun shifted behind a cloud and the tower room was plunged into shadows. Otto became one with the darkness. A masculine force of muscle and brawn. A warrior, trained to trust only himself.
“I have been raised to expect little else,” he stated.
Ariana’s growing anxieties were tempered by a small jolt of recognition.Nor me, she wanted to say. But the words dried on her tongue.
She swallowed and dampened her lips. “What about me?” she forced out. If a confrontation was coming, then she would prefer to get it over with. “Can the Earl of Darkmoor not trust his wife?”
All at once, she regretted her bravado. Otto stalked over to her, like a lion approaching its prey. “What about you?” he murmured, bringing his warm, bronzed hand to her flushed cheek. “Can I trust Ariana of Kenmar?” His gaze tightened; eyes boring into hers. “Let’s talk about that, shall we?”
Chapter Four
As her greeneyes met his, the flick of passion in Otto’s gut began to take hold. He longed to run his fingers through her cloud of hair, to press those sweet lips with his own.
