“I can’t—”
He kissed her again. “You can do anything. You’ll be good for Elf. She’s as spirited as you inside—lord, you should have seen some of the things she and Cyn got up to as children. They’re twins. Practically turned us gray. But she’s too kind to take risks now she’s a woman for fear of what Rothgar might do. Like most rakes he’s not reasonable when it comes to men and his sisters.”
Portia found this rush into family life alarming. “Bryght, I’m not sure—”
He sealed her lips with his fingers. “There’s no going back now.”
It was the gleam of triumph in his eyes that chilled her. “You seduced me deliberately.”
“You didn’t protest.”
“Yes I did, and you over-rode me!”
“Are you going to accuse me of rape in truth?”
Portia whirled away, hands to cheeks. “No, but you kissed me out of my senses.” She turned back to confront him. “You wanted this marriage and I didn’t, so you made sure I would have to agree.”
“I don’t think you have much to complain about.”
At his complacency, hissmugness,Portia felt the fury rising in her like a pillar of flame. “Oh, don’t you? Well, I tell you this, Bryght Malloren. Your scheme has failed. I willnevermarry you.”
“Not even if you’re with child?”
“Unlikely, after just one…”
“But possible.”
“Then I’ll raise it a bastard.”
“No, you damn well won’t. You will marry me, Portia. You have no choice.”
He was as dark and dangerous as at their first meeting reminding her of the many reasons she shouldn’t bind her life to his. When he came at her, she grabbed the water jug and hurled the contents at him. He dodged most of it, capturing the jug before she could throw that too. He tossed it on the bed, so she seized the porcelain basin, intending to smash it over his head. He tackled her onto the bed and captured it from her.
“Surrender, Portia. You wanted that love-making, and you want me.”
She fought him with all her strength. “I wantchoiceand you stole it from me!”
He confined her easily. “I fight for what I want, and I want you.”
Before she could respond, there was a tap at the door. He hesitated a moment, then slid off her and went to open it.
A blank-faced middle-aged maid came in and curtsied.
Bryght said to her, “My future bride needs to prepare for the evening. But she is not to leave this room without one of the family as escort.”
He left the room.
She was a prisoner again.
Portia closed her eyes and tried to control a wash of rage and misery. How could she go so quickly from that scintillating delight to this bleak despair?
Then she realized that she was lying in disorder on a bed in a highly disordered room. She scrambled to her feet, wondering what the maid could be thinking.
The woman just said, “I’ll ring for more water, ma’am.”
A footman appeared and was sent on the errand while the maid efficiently cleared away the remains of battle.
Portia stood there wondering frantically what the likelihood was of her already carrying a child. She quelled panic. Such things became clear. The main thing was to play for time, and not to marry on Wednesday.
