A cold smile crossed his lips. “We will start anew. You will do the tasks originally set for you, and you will begin with this,” he said, handing her the short robe. “There is a small tear under one arm that needs repairing.”
She stared at him, aghast. “Lord in heaven!” she cried in exasperation.
“Your god cannot help you, wench, nor will mine. You have only me to deal with.”
“I won’t do it, Garrick!” she replied furiously, throwing the robe to the floor. “You know I won’t!”
He shrugged again, unperturbed, and walked back to the table. “Then you will remain in this room until you change your mind,” he said over his shoulder.
“Nay, only until you sleep, Viking.”
“Then it appears you must be guarded again. Dog,” he called, and the white shepherd came from the bed. Brenna had not even noticed him, his fur coat blended so well with the ermine. “Stay by the door and see that the wench does not leave,” Garrick commanded.
The animal seemed to understand every word. He turned his head and looked at Brenna inconsequentially before moving to the door, where he lay down to rest again. Brenna cast the dog a murderous look, then turned that same look on his master.
“I have tried not to hate you, Viking, since you were not personally to blame for my being here, but you are making it difficult!”
His lips turned up in a cynical smile. “Hate me all you like, mistress. ’Twill not change a thing. My feelings for you are not much different, for you have been naught but an ill-tempered, troublesome wench since you came, a thorn in my side that I can do without. At least we know where we stand.” He took a long draught of wine, then began to remove his clothing.
“Now what?”
“We have reached an impasse, so there will be no more discussion this night. To bed, mistress.”
“I am no longer tired,” she said sourly.
“So?”
“You may force me to stay in this room, but I will not sleep in that bed with you!” she stormed.
“Oh?” he crooked an eyebrow at her. “I thought by the game you played since last you lay there that you would be more than willing to do so again.”
“You thought wrong!” she snapped, her cheeks reddening.
“Well, no matter. Since I do not mind sharing my bed, youwillsleep there. But never fear, mistress. I will not take advantage of you, for you will not find pleasure in this room. Now to bed, and if not to sleep, then to think on your stubbornness.”
Brenna’s body urged her to consciousness. It seemed to cry out, Wake up, wake up and see what pleasures await you. The dream was dispelled and her eyes opened slowly in surprise at the strange sensations she felt, then they widened fully when she understood what was happening.
She lay on her side facing the wall, her arms resting on the pillow under her face, one leg raised and bent at the knee, the other leg straight. She was on top of the soft ermine spread, as she had been before she fell asleep with Garrick beside her. But now her nightdress was pulled up and bunched about her waist, leaving her hips and legs completely bare.
She lay perfectly still and managed to keep her breathing even as if she continued to sleep. Garrick’s chest was pressed against her back, the warmth of him seeping through her nightdress. His arm rested on her waist, his hand beneath the material was squeezed between her breasts, gently teasing one. She could feel his breath on her neck, hot and tickling, and his hand moved slowly downward, trailing over the taut curve of her belly, then on to her hip and down her thigh. The sensation caused goosebumps to spread over her legs. Then his hand moved deftly to her inner thigh and began to ascend with maddening slowness until it finally stopped on the soft mound of black curls between her legs. There the hand lingered, the fingers gently parting the curls, nudging their way into the moist, hot flesh that already quivered with delight.
With startled wonderment, Brenna heard a soft moan escape her lips. She knew she should run, flee, but instead she slowly turned onto her back to lay the way open for those questing fingers. A seductive smile curled on her lips when she saw the ardent look in Garrick’s turquoise eyes.
“It took you long enough to wake, wench,” he murmured in a teasing manner.
It amazed her that he could be so warm and tender, when he was usually so abrupt and harsh. But she did not mind, and this amazed her also; she actually looked forward to this moment. The last time they had laid thus, she had experienced genuine pleasure, but she also sensed that even more intense delight could be reached.
“I could have sworn, Sir Viking, that you said I would find no pleasure in this bed,” she said, running her fingers through the golden hair on his bare chest. “You cannot keep your word for a single night?”
“It seems, mistress,” he replied huskily, lowering his parted lips to hers for a gentle kiss, “that I spoke in haste. But you have yourself to blame, for in truth, your mannish ways do vanish once you are abed.” He grinned down at her. “Why is that?”
She shrugged, then smiled impishly. “I find that being a woman on occasion has its merits. And I am not too timid to admit it.”
“Timid, ha!” he laughed. “Never that!”
“’Tis well you know it, Viking,” she returned, her hand moving to his neck to pull him closer. “Now you will not be surprised by my actions.”
She kissed him hungrily, and even though she had said the words, he was amazed. That her nearness had tempted him beyond control was a fact. That she was driving him wild with passion now was even more true. She urged him to take her, and he did, without hesitation. She opened her legs to him and he thrust deep into her inner recesses. He clutched her buttocks to press her even closer to him and rode her like a stallion rides the wind. Before the final thrust, he felt her legs wrap around his hips and then he was lost in that white sphere of fire and delight that had spurred him to break his word and make her his.
