He rapped firmly on the door and grabbed the handle to push it open. It didn’t budge. Anger surged inside him.
His new wife had barred the damn door.
Chapter 19
The events of the day had taken their toll, and Flora had dozed off in the chair beside the fire as she’d waited. But the rattle of the door had woken her right up.
She stood up and smoothed her skirts, still wearing her wedding gown, a stunning combination of gold silk and velvet embroidered with gold beads and pearls. The shoes he’d given her lay untouched in their box. Instead, she’d worn a pair of simple silk slippers. She wondered if he’d noticed—not that she cared, she told herself.
She fingered the amulet at her neck. The amulet that she’d intended to give him tonight as a symbol of her love for him. Instead, it was an enduring reminder of her mother’s fate and of how wrong she’d been about him. The curse, it seemed, would not end with her.
He knocked again, louder this time. She heard the soft rasp of his voice brimming with anger. “Let me in, Flora,” he warned. “Now.”
Her hands balled into fists at her side. “No.”
He swore and jiggled the door harder. “Open it or I’ll break the damn thing down.”
The low fury in his voice gave her a moment’s pause, but she looked at the iron bar across the heavy wooden-planked door, and it bolstered her depleting courage. It would take a small army to knock down that door. “Go away,” she said boldly. “I have no wish to see you tonight…or any other night, for that matter.”
She heard him swear again, and then there was silence. She waited, not daring to move or even breathe. Time ticked slowly by. Finally she exhaled, surprised that it had been that easy.
All of a sudden, she heard a loud bang. She jumped back, startled, as the door came crashing open. Her eyes flew to the wall in stunned disbelief. The force of his kick had torn the latch right off.
Her confidence faltered as she gazed into the eyes of the furious man shadowed in the doorway. His face was a mask of harsh lines, from the taut pull of his mouth to the hard set of his jaw. His eyes blazed like sapphires in the candlelight.
She drew in her breath, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“Don’t ever bar me from your room again.”
“You have no right—”
“I have every right,” he seethed. With three long strides, he stood before her. “You are my wife.”
“By coercion and deceit.”
The pulse in his neck throbbed ominously. “Don’t press me, Flora. I’m trying to be patient with you, but you are not making it easy. We took vows, and you will honor them.”
He was acting as though she were in the wrong, when it was he who’d tricked her into a marriage she did not want. She lifted her chin. “Did my cousin give you the writ to free your brother?”
“He did.”
“Well then, you have what you want. Now leave me alone.”
He grabbed her arm, his eyes boring into hers. “Youare what I want.”
She wrenched her arm from his grasp. “You may have bartered and paid for me, but some things aren’t for sale.”
He stilled, every muscle in his body flexed. He was standing so close, she could smell him—the warm masculine scent a drug on her senses.
“What are you saying?”
Her chin jutted up. “You’ll have to force me because I’ll never come willingly to you again.”
His expression turned so dark, she thought he was going to explode. She gasped when he pulled her forcefully to him, her breasts crushed against the granite shield of his chest. He radiated heat. She could feel the force of his blood pounding through his body and the heavy beat of his heart. His breath was on her neck; her skin prickled with awareness. And God help her, she shivered.
“Are you so sure about that?” His voice was like velvet, deep and seductive, seeping into her bones.
She knew what he could do to her. He could make her beg for him, the wretched beast.
