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His hands slipped away from her—in punishment, she supposed—and she wished for the moment of cherishing she’d lost. Then his hands were back, moving around her ears and among the roots of her hair. “You’ll apologize to me for that one day,” he pledged.
“By the saints, I hope so,” she muttered.
“I’m not Robin of Jagger.”
“I know that.”
“I will not betray you with another woman.”
She didn’t answer, for she didn’t believe him.
“I am nothing like him,” Hugh insisted.
Sitting up in a sudden blaze of fury, she tore herself away from his hands, jerking strands of her hair loose in the process. “Oh, aye, you are! You’re just like him. A warrior, going forth to right every wrong, to fight every foe.” You get out of your clothes as quickly, too, she wanted to say. That she kept to herself, but somehow, he’d stripped himself while he caressed her. “And you’ll end up just like him, too.”
“I will not hang!”
“Mayhap not, but you’ll be just as dead. Spitted on a sword, or bashed with a mace, or bludgeoned beneath the hooves of some other knight’s horse. They’ll bring you home to me on a slab, and I’ll cry until I’m hoarse, and I’ll be alone again.”
He laughed. Laughed! “I won’t be killed. Better men have tried many a time and haven’t succeeded—why would they succeed now?”
The stupid oaf mocked her rage and her fear. She’d heard that braggadocio before, and once more, she tried to reason with something that couldn’t be reasoned with—a man’s brain. “As time goes on, the chance is ever greater that you will be killed.”
“As time goes on, my skill in battle grows ever greater.”
“Mere luck works against you.” He still smiled, that patronizing “I know best” smile. He tried to take her hand, but she rapped his knuckles. She wanted to fight. He wanted to swive. He’d win, of course, but she’d challenge him anyway. “You want me. All right, you can have me. “I’ll warm your bed and keep your house and you’ll never know what you’re missing.”
That made him stop. Moving closer, he stared at her face as if she would tell him a secret. “What will I be missing?”
“I won’t give you any of my…my true affection.” There was no use talking about love. She didn’t still cherish him in her heart. She didn’t cherish any man in her heart. “I’m not going to grieve for a man who looks for a fight when peace can be made with a smile.”
He still didn’t understand, and she guessed why. All he wanted was her efficiency and her body, and he would be satisfied. Fine and good; she’d give him both in generous portions and keep the important parts for herself and her sons.
Then he grabbed her, his face alight with comprehension. “Are you saying you’ll not give to me what you gave to Robin?”
“Ah.” She spoke to the air. “He’s a clever lad, he is.”
“That’s what you think, my lady. That’s what you think.” He stripped the bedcovers away from her and pushed her down. He placed his hands one on each side of her hips and lowered himself to her, and his sword stood ready for combat.
She grabbed him by the back and put the mark of her fingernails along his spine. She was ready for him. Even the wildness of the night before couldn’t extinguish her excitement.
She might not love this man, but she wanted him, and that was enough. “You’ll not win this battle,” she vowed.
“I win every battle,” he answered, his hazel eyes flaming with conviction.
Wrapping her legs around his hips, she opened herself to him, determined to swallow him and leave him defenseless.
Without even directing himself, he thrust home.
She arched back, caught instantly in frenzied orgasm. He rose like a whale breaching in a wave. On his knees he caught her hips. He forced himself deeper. She couldn’t take more, but he made a place for himself deep within her. Her womb welcomed him with ripples of demand and pleasure.
No finesse. Nothing but instant desire, followed by instant release.
He muttered, “I don’t take you. You take me.”
He admitted that, so she was winning. Winning! Another orgasm caught her, and she screamed from the heat and the fierceness.
He besieged her, thrusting again and again. The castle gate had fallen, the enemy was within, but he hadn’t defeated her and he knew it. His hands moved over her; he pinched her nipples, then moved his hand down below her waist and slid his thumb between their bodies.
