“Do you like my bottle, missy?”
The gruff male voice startled her. She’d been so fixated on her drinking she hadn’t registered the man’s presence. His form blocked the light and she couldn’t make out his features in the shadows to know who he was.
She stepped away toward the front door. Before she could take more than one step, he grabbed her, his hand moving with an incredible swiftness. He slapped his other hand over her mouth before she could scream and backed her against the wall to pin her there with his body. She kicked but he was too strong and heavy for her.
“You don’t receive anything for nothing,” he said, his breath hot in her face. His hand was between her legs in the crudest way possible and he began fumbling with his clothing. “Now you pay for your drinks and let’s do it quick.”
He started pulling up her skirt.
Panic coursed through her. She remembered this. She knew it. She began struggling with fierce will. He growled at her to stay still.
His hold over her mouth lessened and she bit his finger with all she had.
He roared in rage. He stopped his fumbling and grasped her by the throat, but Leonie sensed freedom. She ducked her head and tried to run—except he had hold of her dress. His fingernails scraped her chest as he grabbed her by the bodice. He hit her across the face with his elbow.
She tasted blood but still she tried to strike out, attempting to hit him with the bottle she held in her hand. He swore, grabbed her hair and her chest, and began dragging her toward the front door.
Leonie resisted with all her might. If he took her outside, no one would hear her scream, just like that night with Arthur. That horrible, horrible night.
And then she realized she had yet to scream. She’d been so busy struggling she’d not made a sound.
Leonie let out a scream that could have been heard in heaven. For her effort, she received another elbow to the face as he shoved the door open with her shoulder.
Chapter 14
Roman had woken to discover Leonie gone from his bed. He sat up, confused. Her dress was gone from where it had been hanging. Perhaps she had slipped out for the water closet?
She should have let him escort her.
In fact, he was embarrassed that she’d managed to leave the room without his being aware. He could lay the blame at her lovely feet. She’d drained him. She’d been a vibrant, demanding partner and it has been his honor to pleasure her. She’d been everything he’d hoped and more.
He’d heard men complain of wives who considered sex little more than a chore. Being a circumspect man, he’d hoped his wife would not be one of them. His sense of duty was such that he would not dishonor his marriage vows.
However, Leonie had proven herself to be very much his partner in bed. He felt blessed. Those stirrings years ago had not been just lust. His love for her had been vindicated. How could any man not help but adore such a woman? She was all he could ask.
In fact, he could have a go at her again but wouldn’t. She needed rest.
So, Roman rose from bed, pulled on his breeches, and went out to search for his wife. When he found her, he would also stress that she must never fear waking him. Walking alone around even an inn such as this was never safe for a woman like herself. He’d come to realize that, though she knew her attraction, she didn’t truly understand her impact on the male beast. This was part of her charm but could be dangerous.
Barefoot because he had not bothered to waste the time to put on his boots, he went out into the hall. He was on the top step when he heard Leonie scream.
Cannon shot could not move as fast as Roman did down those stairs. He heard a scuffle in the hall and saw a man trying to drag her out the door. The brute had Leonie by her dress and her hair. She was digging her feet into the floor trying to stop from being abducted.
In a flash, Roman was in front of the man. He grabbed him with both hands and, showing a superhuman strength, lifted him up and back into the inn.
Her assailant let go of Leonie with a yelp. His eyes widened to show the whites as he looked at Roman. Roman was determined that his face would be the man’slastmemory. He threw the bastard against the wall. He landed with a thud, stunned. He held up his hands. Roman recognized him as one of the soldiers who had been eyeing Leonie earlier.
“She wanted it,” the man said. “Traded it for a bottle, she did—”
Roman’s fist cut off the sentence.
Wanted it?Leonie had wanted this scum? Roman thought not.
He landed another blow in the bastard’s gut. It wasn’t just the soldier he beat, but Paccard, the man who had defiled her. He punched the bastard in his side. Another to his face. And another and another and another...
From a distance, he could hear Leonie crying his name.
Several pairs of strong arms tried to prevent him from battering the man more. “You’ll kill him, my lord.” It was the innkeeper’s voice. “You must stop. He’s done.”
