‘There is little to tell. I am no one, not important at all.’
‘You are important to me. Right now, you are all I see, lass. And I would know you in every way one person can know another, in the way a man knows a woman.’
‘You are trying to turn me from the hunt because you do not want to lose,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light.
His mouth edged closer. ‘You are right. I don’t want to lose,’ he murmured.
Eventually, Jasper’s patience would run out, and he would take what he wanted. She could not hold him off forever. Maybe it was better to succumb on her own terms and get something out of it – Bran’s release, some measure of freedom for herself. And a traitorous part of Rowenna imagined that surrender and yearned for it. Now that she was looking at Jasper as a possible lover instead of a tormentor, she had to own that he was attractive – big, manly, and even handsome. And when he chose to smile and not snarl, her heart melted a little.
His lips brushed hers. ‘Kiss me, lass,’ he said, and the command in his deep, dark voice frayed the last of her resistance.
His mouth was warm and delicious, sending a pulse of desire straight between her legs. Her heart galloped as Jasper’s fingers tightened on her waist, and he pressed her against the tree. The crossbow slid from her boneless fingers. Breathlessly, Rowenna clung to his arms. His fingers slid up her back and into her hair, and before she knew it, she was clutching at him as he plundered her mouth. She wanted more, everything he could give. In herwickedness, she wanted to take him into her so that they were one.
Jasper kissed her neck, his hands roaming. ‘So soft and warm and lovely,’ he gasped into her skin. ‘I want you, Rowenna. So badly. Will you have me?’
She forced his mouth back to hers like a wanton trollop, and then the jingle of a bridle froze the blood in her veins.
‘What have we here? A lover’s tryst?’ shouted a man atop a horse - thuggish, hostile, English. He was accompanied by two others.
‘Can we keep the whore when you have finished with that dog?’ said one of them.
‘No, she has to die too,’ said the other man.
‘But it is a waste. She’s pretty, and I’d rather keep her for a few days and make her squeal. Can’t I have her?’
Jasper slid his sword from its scabbard with a shriek of metal. ‘You can have my sword in your guts if you like,’ he snarled. There was no hesitation. With a roar, he ran at the men, sword swept back. Their horses scurried sideways in alarm, and the nearest man got a swipe to the leg before he could defend himself. Blood gushed crimson down his horse’s flank as it crashed off through the undergrowth.
Rowenna fumbled for her crossbow, but her fingers shook. She tried to load an arrow as the middle man, the one who had spoken first, kicked his horse and charged. But Jasper was nimble and jumped aside and, in one fluid movement, swept a dirk from his belt and hurled it at the man’s back. It sank to the hilt in his shoulder, and he slumped sideways and lost his seat, landing badly on a tree stump with a sickening crack.
The third man aimed a crossbow at Jasper’s back. He fired, and Jasper spun and fell into the ferns. Rowenna’s hands came up. She had no time. Acting on instinct and rage, she fired. Her arrow hit the man’s forehead. He brought his hands up, and his fingers seeped red. Rowenna’s legs went from under her. Her ears started to ring, and she fell to the ground.
As if from far away, Jasper’s voice cut through. ‘Lass, are you hit?’ Moments later, a bloody hand hauled her up.
‘No. I am well, but I thought you were dead,’ she cried. ‘Oh, you are bleeding.’
‘A flesh wound is all. An arrow grazed my arm, and I tripped over a tree root like a fool. Lass, are you alright?’
Rowenna doubled over and vomited.
‘There, there. It is alright,’ said Jasper, holding back strands of hair near her mouth. ‘Did you never kill a man before?’
‘No,’ she gasped as the nausea passed.
‘Well, don’t dwell on it. You had no choice. It was either that villain or me.’
A terrible groaning sound reached her ears. ‘Oh God, is he still alive?’
‘Not the one you hit, but the other one. I think he broke his back when he fell off his horse. Stay here.’
Rowenna steadied herself against a tree to stand upright. She still felt sick, but slowly, the woods stopped spinning in a blur of green. She followed Jasper over to the injured man, recoiling when she looked upon him, for his body lay at a sickening angle.
‘Finish it,’ gasped the man.
‘Not just yet.’ Jasper squatted beside him and raised the man’s shoulder to retrieve his dirk from his back. Then he let him fall back down. The man screamed.
‘You are dying, and a long way from home. Tell me why you tried to kill me.’
‘Go to hell,’ said the man.
