Fawn’s voice rang clear. “You’ve gone too far, Lord Rhodes.”
A murmur rippled through the men. Rhodes descended the dais, each step measured, his gaze locked on hers. “Too far? Nay, lass. I told you in the woods what would come. You’ll be my wife.”
Her eyes flashed. “You told me. I never agreed.”
He stopped before her, tall and motionless, his shadow spilling over her. “Your agreement isn’t needed. My word is law.”
Her hands fisted at her sides, her breath quick. “Then your law is madness. You cannot force me to wed you.”
A slow smile curved his mouth, dark and certain. “Think again. I rule here.”
Sprig poked his small head from the pouch and gave a sharp, indignant mewl. Laughter rippled through the men until Rhodes’s glare silenced it.
His gaze returned to her, the faintest spark of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve more spirit than I thought, Fawn. You’ll make me a fine wife indeed.”
Fawn’s heart pounded with fury, but she refused to lower her gaze. “Over my grave, Lord Rhodes.”
The hall held its breath as the two stood locked in defiance, fire and steel.
“I can arrange that if that is what you prefer,” he said with a glint of humor in his eyes.
Gasps circled the room.
Hearing that, Rhodes said, “We should talk privately.”
Fawn opened her mouth to object, but his hand closed firmly around her arm. Without so much as a backward glance to his men, he steered her toward a narrow passage. The murmurs rose in his wake, but none dared follow.
The narrow passage smelled faintly of stone and old rushes. Fawn tugged against his grip, her chin high, but his stride was determined. “You’ve no right to drag me?—”
“I’ve every right,” he cut in, his tone firm but with a sharp edge to it. “And you’ve made certain the whole clan knows it.”
They reached the door to his solar. He pushed it open and guided her inside, shutting it firmly behind them. The chamber was warmer than the hall, the fire burning bright in the hearth, its glow catching on the rough wood of the large table, jugs and tankards waiting there.
Fawn yanked her arm free and glared at him. “You may command your men, Lord Rhodes, but you do not command me.”
He studied her for a long moment, eyes narrowing. Bloody hell, if there wasn’t beauty in her anger; her curls a fiery tumble about her shoulders, her skin glowing, her cheeks flushed from more than frustration. A faint, sweet scent clung to her, herbsand something warmer, richer, as though the very air about her was touched by spring despite the winter pressing outside.
“You mistake me, Fawn,” he said, his voice lower now, roughened at the edges. “This is not about command. It’s about what is already settled. You will be my wife.”
Her heart thudded hard, though whether in fury or something else entirely, she refused to admit. “You cannot simply decide such a thing.”
“Why not?” His mouth curved faintly, his gaze lingering where her curls brushed her cheek, where her lips trembled in defiance. “Do you deny there’s fire between us? I felt it in the woods, and I see it now, in your eyes when you fight me. You can lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to me.”
“You are wrong,” she said, her voice steady though her racing pulse betrayed her. “Whatever you think you feel, I will never be your wife.”
He stepped closer, his nearness wrapping around her like the heat of the fire itself. For a heartbeat, her breath caught, and her senses suddenly filled with him.
“You’ll learn, Fawn,” he said, his words a dark vow. “I never lose.”
Her chin lifted, eyes blazing. “Then prepare yourself, Rhodes of Clan MacBrair. Because you’ve already lost.”
Something fierce snapped in him then, her fire, her beauty, her boldness. Before she could draw another breath, his hand reached out grabbing firm hold of the nape of her neck, and he pulled her against him, their bodies colliding, and his mouth claiming hers in a hard, searing kiss.
Fawn stiffened, her hands going to his chest that was as hard as steel against her useless efforts to free herself. The world seemed to tilt, her pulse hammering as his lips moved against hers with raw certainty. Fury and something far more dangerous tangled deep inside her.
When he drew back, his breath warm against her cheek, his dark gaze held hers with unshaken resolve. “You’ll be mine, lass, and no denial will change it.”
CHAPTER 5
