“I have never forced a lady in all my days.”
“To be the first has no place of pride in this matter,” Melissande said.“Make no mistake, sir.You will not so weaken me again.You are forbidden to cross the threshold of my chamber from this day forth, whether we be wedded or not.”
There was a terse silence, but Melissande turned her back upon Quinn.She sat on a stool and donned her stockings, ensuring that he could not see her bare legs and wishing that she were not so aware of his watchful presence.
“We have need of a son, and there will be none this way,” he said, his voice taut.
“You cannot know that.The feat might be accomplished.”
“If not, you must invite me to your bed, my lady.To have no heir is a vulnerability that cannot be endured.”
Melissande closed her eyes against this appeal, for she saw the good sense in it.Perhaps in time, she could meet him abed without losing her wits.Perhaps it was the novelty of this union and its pleasures that disarmed her.
“Promise me,” she said instead and heard him growl beneath his breath.
He paced the width of the chamber, his frustration clear.She strove to ignore him and failed utterly.
“What is his name?”Quinn asked an eternity later.
“I do not have your vow.”
“I will touch you only when you desire as much,” he replied tersely.
Melissande turned to study him, surprised to have him concede this.Quinn looked more grim than ever she had seen him.Even in his chemise, he was evidently a warrior, and one who would undertake any risk for the sake of justice.He looked powerful, formidable even, yet he surrendered to her request.
Perhaps Quinn was precisely as he appeared.
“I will have you pledge that you will not tempt my desire.”
“The pledge you have is the sole one I will grant, my lady,” he said and his eyes flashed anew.“We are wed.I vow to let you decide the timing of our unions and will pledge no more.”
Melissande dropped her gaze, knowing that she had won more than expected.It was not time to press for more.
“Now, tell me the name of the man who holds your heart captive forever.”
“Arnaud de Privas.”The name sounded hollow.Melissande tried to recall the face of the man to whom it belonged and could not.
It had been so long.In all honesty, giving her word was all she recalled of the matter.
And that glorious summer day.Her recollection of her father’s delight was more clear than any memory she had of Arnaud.
Had Arnaud truly wed Marie or had Tulley lied?She did not know, so did not share that detail with Quinn.
“Privas borders Annossy and Sayerne.”
“Aye.”
“How is it that I do not recall meeting its ruling family?”
“It has been impoverished longer than Sayerne.Since the death of Arnaud’s father, who was a great friend of my father.”
“And your betrothed?”
“Left to seek his fortune, much as you did.”She turned to watch him, curious about his reaction.
“Arnaud de Privas.”Quinn repeated the name once more under his breath, as though committing it to memory, then met her gaze.“I will keep my vow, but you will invite me to your chamber and soon, my lady.”
“I will not!”
