“Then I must be quite different from most women.”
He could agree with that wholeheartedly. Never before had a woman played such havoc with his emotions. He despised her one moment, and the next he wanted to bury hishands in her hair and ravage her mouth. And he despised himself for that weakness of the flesh that she provoked so easily.
Were she any other woman, he would have leaned into her. His mouth would be on her neck, tasting her, his hands on her breasts, bringing them to budding life.
The sensual habits of a lifetime were so ingrained, he had to make a constant, conscious effort to keep his hands from her when she was this close to him. But he didn’t move back to make it easier.
He should have, but he didn’t.
“You could have saved your apology, wench,” he said now. “You still do not leave here.”
She spun around. “But my brother—”
“Has had no luck in dealing with my sister, so has decided to besiege us. Since we have had ample time to prepare for it, who do you think will last the longer, or lose patience first and attack?”
She was incredulous. “You would take this to war?”
“Not I.”
“Most certainly you!” she snapped. “Just let me go home. I have suffered enough—”
“How have you suffered? Have you marks to show for your lashings? Do you ache from your labors?”
She was exasperated enough to yell at him. “I suffer from your presence!”
His color heightened at that, and she finally saw it, the rage he had come in with, that shewas provoking even more. A thrill of fear shot through her. She stepped back, only to come up against the ledge of the open window. For the briefest moment she thought of jumping. His hand twisting in the chain wrapped around her neck took that option from her.
“So you cannot stomach the sight of me, wench?” She wasn’t about to answer that now. “Then ’tis your misfortune that King Alfred was here to offer suggestions for the settlement of this matter, and one he particularly favors. ’Tis the king’s wish that we marry.”
She gasped so hard she choked on it. He pounded on her back. She dodged his hand quickly before he dislocated something. She ended up glaring at him.
“That was not funny,” she said.
“Do you see me laughing?”
He wasn’t. What he was, was still seething with anger, and not even trying to contain it anymore.
She wailed almost desperately, “But you were not serious!”
“How was I not? ’Tis not healthy to ignore a king.”
“Are you in trouble, then, for doing so?”
“You think I refused?” His laugh was hard, bitter. “Nay, wench, I am not that foolish.”
Her eyes flared. The words came out breathless with shock. “You would marry me?”
“Aye.”
She shook her head. “Lash me instead. Have done with it, then let me go.”
“Are you finally begging?”
“I am not,” she gritted out. “’Tis obvious you have not had enough revenge, or you would release me. I am offering an alternative to this madness.”
“Madness? Nay, I think not, for it has just occurred to me that marriage puts you at my mercy forever, rather than for a short length of time. What better revenge?”
“But you ruin your life as well!”
