“Think what ’twould mean were you to bring deliberate harm to Alden while Alfred is here. He is a fair man, but you saw for yourself today how he protects his nobles at this time. By rights, I should have been able to challenge Eldred. Alfred knew how dearly I wanted to. Yet he sent the cur home and away from my wrath. Every man he has now, he wants to have when the Danes come again. He deals harshly with any who deplete his army.”
“Your point is taken, milord. But why do you ask for my word only until your King leaves?”
He answered easily. “When all his nobles are gone, you will be safe again.”
“And after that?”
“The danger will be gone. We go back as before. So will you give your word?”
Kristen continued to sit there for a long stunned moment, staring at his broad back. Then she slipped off the bed, taking the sheet with her. She came up behind him so quietly that he tensed for a second when she wrapped one arm about his neck, for he had not heard her approach.
“Aye, I give you my word I will not touch your precious Alden,” she purred into his ear. “But as for you…”
She yanked hard with her arm, toppling man and chair over backward. She heard his hiss of pain, then the violent curse he shouted, but she was already running for the unlocked door. Once in the corridor, however, she was faced with the frustrating knowledge that she could not go below as she was. She dashed for the nearest door instead, intending to hide behind it no matter who occupied the chamber.
A fine plan under such short notice, but she had not counted on this particular occupant. A candle still burned by the bed, allowing her to immediately recognize the King of Wessex as he sat up, sword in hand. They were both stunned, but he only for a second. He smiled, taking in her dishabille: the tawny hair cascading over her shoulders, the sheet simply hanging in front of her, for she had had no time to wrap it around.
Unfortunately, Kristen stood there too long in her own surprise. She had closed the door to Royce’s chamber, but he threw it open now. She could not close herself into this room. She could not hope to hold the door closed against Royce, nor would his King let her. And she had nowhere else to run now that he couldn’t quickly catch her.
She thought of all this before she turned to face Royce, unmindful that she was giving Alfred a trim view of her naked backside. But Kristen did not give the King another thought, not once she saw the look of fury on Royce’s face as he stalked toward her.
He said not a word to her, but caught the hand she put out to ward him off. She let go of her sheet to hit him with the other, but he caught that too, bringing both hands up behind her back, which pressed her hard against his chest.
“Your pardon, milord,” Royce said to his King.
Alfred chuckled. “Nay, ’twas most entertaining.”
Tight-lipped, Royce nodded and closed the door. He then dragged Kristen back to his own chamber. He did not trust himself to speak yet. He felt like throttling her and was very close to giving it serious consideration.
He kicked his own door closed and dragged her with him to the bed. He sat down on it, yanking her across his lap as he did. He held her in such a way that she could not move either hand, and her legs were likewise of little help. For long moments he just held her, trying to bring his fury under control while she jerked and twisted to get loose.
Finally, Kristen’s strength was expended and she became still. But her eyes were smoldering with blue-green fire. Royce did not see it. He had closed his own against the sight of her squirming naked on his lap.
“I hate you!”
The words jolted him, they were hissed with such rancor. A tight feeling twisted at his chest, defusing most of his own anger. As unpredictable as Kristen was, he had never thought to hear her say that.
His eyes locked with hers, probing. “Why?” he asked her quietly.
There was more heat to her own voice. “You tricked me! You knew what I thought, and you let me think it!”
“I cannot know your mind, Kristen.”
“Liar!” she fumed. “Why else would I come to your chamber without protest? You take off my chains and you say we will make a bargain. You said naught of it being only a temporary bargain.”
He had indeed been surprised by her acquiescence, but had been too pleased to wonder long about it.
“You say me wrong, wench.” Royce sighed. “How could I know what you assumed, when a permanent removal of those chains was never my intention? If the notion did not cross my mind, how could I know it did yours?”
“So, I am the fool—again. I see in you what is not there, what will never be there.”
He was stung by her bitterness. “What do you see? God’s mercy, Kristen, what do you want from me?”
“There is naught that I want—anymore—except to be left alone.”
He shook his head, slowly, his eyes almost regretful. “I would if I could.”
“If you could?” she sneered. “Have you no stronger will than that, Saxon?”
