“Aye, and it was this that swayed me most in favor of the king’s order.” She stiffened only slightly as he bent close to whisper in her ear. “I find great pleasure in your body. I enjoy touching you, kissing you . . . I enjoy being inside you and hearing you cry out. I think I will enjoy making an heir on you, lady. Planting my seed and seeing you swell.”
She had gone very still. He watched her eyes di-late, her breasts begin to rise and fall very rapidly.
“You . . . you will?” she managed to croak.
“Yes, I will. And do not think to deny me once that heir has been born. I will have as many children on you as I can while we are both able!”
It was a monstrous thing to say, he knew it as soon as the words were past his lips, but it was too late to pull them back. Besides, he wanted her and it was best she know it. He stepped closer, grasp-ing her shoulders and pulling her up against the hard wall of his chest until her breasts were flattened against him. Her nipples, he noticed with interest, had gone hard.
His voice was a husky whisper. “I will lay with you every day of my life, mignonne, and still it will not be enough to rid me of the spell you have cast upon me.”
There was such a shimmer of heat in Radulf’s dark eyes that Lily’s lips fell open; her breath caught in her throat. Her skin was still flushed and hot, but now something very different from anger was heating it. The truth was well-nigh unbearable to her pride. Oh God, she wanted him to wed her! She wanted to lie in his bed every day, just as he said. She wanted to bear his children!
Large, black-haired, brawling boys!
He read the need in her eyes, and his wonderful mouth tugged up at the corners. “Do you want that, too, lady? Do you?” His fingers slid across her cheek, playing with the soft fleshy part of her ear. His breath heated her lips.
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “We are both caught in the spell then, with no way out. William has forced us into marriage and we will make the most of it.”
Lily swallowed and closed her eyes against the wicked temptation in his. “Never!” she gasped, but it was a lie and he knew it.
He laughed again, and with Lily folded within one powerful arm, led her from the castle.
Radulf passed, unseeing, through the castle guard. His smile had gone, and beneath his grim exterior his feelings were careering as wildly out of control as Lily’s. He had come to William yesterday with the express purpose of begging his king to grant him leave to make Lily his wife.
After a long night, much talk, and more to drink, William had finally agreed to Radulf’s request. Only now that Radulf had had his wish granted, he saw it was not so simple.
She hated him, and he could not trust her!
And he had certainly not made himself any more palatable to her with his coarse playacting in the king’s hall.
The one thing Radulf felt reasonably certain of was the power he exerted over her body. Their kiss had shown him that, and he had reaffirmed it moments ago, when she all but swooned in his arms at the thought of the marriage bed. By God, she wanted him; she burned for him as hotly as he burned for her! Perhaps if they spent every moment together in bed, they could find some measure of rosy happiness among the thorns of distrust and lies . . .
Jervois had the horses ready. As Radulf threw Lily up into her saddle, he fancied for a moment that he saw sheer anguish beneath the furious mask of her face. The impression was gone in a flash and she was glaring at him once more like an icy wildcat.
Aye, he had been granted his wish. Lily was to be his wife.
Pray God he did not live to regret it.
Chapter 11
Lily rode back to the inn in even more of a daze than she had left it. The afternoon was fading, night closing over the city like a dark lid. Gray smoke drifted across thatched roofs, and shadows gathered in narrow streets while mist, like ghostly fingers, plucked at the surface of the Ouse.
When they reached the inn, Lily slipped quickly off her mare, ignoring any helping hands, and marched inside without a word. By the time Radulf had followed her, she was in her room with the door shut. Alone with her thoughts.
They were chaotic.
Primarily, there was the frightening but indis-putable fact that her emotions and her body were in direct opposition to her mind. Despite everything Radulf had said and done, as soon as he touched her . . . as soon as he looked at her in that way, sensible and considered behavior lost all meaning.
Radulf had admitted he would use her lands and people against her if she disobeyed him, that he did not trust her and meant to punish her in his own way and in his own time for the damage she had done to his pride.
And still she wanted to tumble blithely into his strong arms!
Lily sank down on her bed and stared at the wall. It was no use wishing things might have been different. It would be oh so easy to sink into his embrace and allow him to do with her as he willed. Then she would be his prisoner indeed!
He knew she burned for him, she could not hide that, but that was all it would ever be—lust. And lust could be controlled, held on a tight rein, maybe even worn out.
One thing Lily swore to herself: Radulf must never conquer her.
