But what exactly had they been to each other? Why was he so enraged? Perhaps she had jilted him.
God help her.… Everything about him—the way he smelled, the husky timbre of his voice, and the crude manner in which he held her up against this cold wall of stone—was causing a fever inside her brain.
His palm slid around to the small of her back, and he pulled her even closer with a rough grunt, crushing her breasts against the solid wall of his chest.
She tried to shove him away.
“That’s it, lass,” he whispered. “Fight me. Iwantyou to. For old times’ sake.”
She knew she should tell him to stop, for she was not some lusty tavern wench. He had no right to treat her this way. She was, according to her grandmother and cousin, a lady of noble blood and superior breeding.
“I demand to know your name,” she managed to say.
“Don’t pretend you do not know it.” He spoke with a low snarl of hostility.
Catherine regarded him steadily in the sunlight.
“This may be difficult for you to believe, sir—for clearly you know me—but I do not know you. I remember nothing. I wish I could, but I have no idea who you are. You must stop this.”
There. She’d said it. Firmly and without hesitation.
He gazed at her for a heated moment, and Catherine’s heart turned over in her chest. Something was very wrong.
“So this is how it’s going to be?” he asked. “You’re going to play innocent?”
She fought to recover her wits. “I honestly don’t know what you—”
“Did you think you would get away with this?” He grabbed hold of her wrists and held her arms up over her head.
“What do you mean?” The words slashed out of her as she tried to struggle free. “Let go of me! And get away withwhat?”
Wake up, Catherine. Wake up!
“You cursed me, lass, and now you’re preying on these innocent people, pretending to be something you’re not. How long do you plan to stay here? Just long enough to steal the inheritance? You once told me you would die a wealthy woman. Is this how you’re going to achieve that?”
She frantically shook her head while the likelihood that he was speaking the truth shuddered in the air between them.
“Or maybe you plan to assume Catherine Montgomery’s identity for the rest of your life? Is that it?”
A terrible pang of dread pitched through her. “What do you know of me?”
He sneered. “I know that you’re a vindictive she-devil and a lying thief. I ought to kill you right now and spare everyone a lot of trouble.”
His loathing cut her to the quick, and she fought harder against his unbreakable hold.
“I am not stealing anything!” she shouted, even though she knew nothing about herself or her past. Half the servants believed she was an imposter. Now it seemed they were correct.
Nevertheless, she felt compelled to defend her honor, for she had not come to Drumloch to deceive anyone or take what did not belong to her. That much, at least, was true.
“I don’t know what you speak of,” she argued. “The dowager countess traveled to Italy to claim me as her granddaughter, and she insists that is who I am.”
“With no help fromyou?” His fierce gaze swept over her whole face. “No spells or potions?”
Catherine winced at his words. “Explain what you mean, sir!”
He dipped low and thrust his hips between her legs. “Thisought to remind you. Surely you know what I can—and cannot—do with it.”
His arousal was undeniable, his size and strength overwhelming. Her heart thudded against her breast. “No, it only tells me that you are a brute!”
