“Youare the one who claimed you were a barbarian who ate women and dogs and used trees for toothpicks, not I!”
He pressed her more firmly against him, willing her to understand.
She arched one of her perfect brows. “I have never met any man who was willing to deny temptation. Why should you be any different?”
The statement made him wonder how many men she had tempted. Though, God’s truth, why should he care if she had bedded half of England?
Aye, why should he be any different.
Fury clouded his thinking. He drew her fully against him, stealing a kiss.
His mouth bruised hers, taking without giving, and Elizabet’s heart hammered like a ram against her ribs.
The more she struggled, the harder he kissed her, until her knees grew wobbly and gave beneath her. Only when she clung to him weakly did he end the assault upon her mouth. But he didn’t release her, and she was almost grateful, because if he had, she would have crumpled into a pile at his feet.
He left her breathless and without words even to protest his scandalous embrace.
“Is that what you expected of me?”
Elizabet’s heart beat too fiercely. Words would not come. Confusion enveloped her.
Why was she not more angered by the liberties he had taken? And why was her heart fluttering so wildly within her breast? Fear mayhap, but something else as well.
When he released her and stepped away, it wasn’t entirely relief she felt. She wavered on her feet and took a single step back, reaching for the table for support.
“As God is my witness, I do not intend to ransom ye, nor to kill ye! Neither do I intend to abuse you! If it were my intention to do so, I wouldna be standing here trying to reason with you.”
Somehow, she managed to find her aplomb. “What danger could I possibly be in?” she asked. “I traveled with my brother and my father’s men. What reason could they have to harm me?”
It was a fitting question. One she fully expected him to answer if she was to believe him.
“How should I know,” he allowed, still glaring at her. “I know only this. I stood looking directly at that bowman, and he did not see me at all. His gaze was trained upon you.”
Elizabet blinked. “What bowman? Why should I believe a word you say?”
He let fly a string of curses in frustration. “The one I tried to tell ye about, woman!Youwere his target. I have no reason to lie to you!”
Elizabet straightened but said nothing. He made no further advances, and she had the terrible feeling he was speaking the truth.
Neither of them said a word for the longest instant, merely stared at each other. Elizabet studied him, trying to discern the truth.
The anger seemed to drain from him even as she watched. “Och, lass, I wanted only the opportunity to tell ye privately what I saw.” His tone was calmer now. “If ye dinna believe me, leave.” He waved her to the door. “Go.”
She lifted both her brows. “Truly?”
“Aye, but before ye do, remember that I made no move toward you in the forest, not until the bowman presented himself.” To prove he meant what he said, he stepped out of her way, leaving the path clear to the door. “Though if I were you, I’d watch my back, lass.”
Elizabet didn’t move, didn’t seem to be able to lift her feet.
“Well, what are ye waiting for?” he asked. “You’re free to go.”
She merely stared at him.
He didn’t owe her a bloody damned thing, Broc told himself.
She wasn’t his responsibility.
If she wished to leave, so be it. He wouldn’t stop her. He couldn’t make her accept his help—except that someonewastrying to kill her, and the only thing Broc knew for certain was that it wasn’t him.
