Heat hit her like a blast of air. Aurora flinched. “Beast. Unhand me!”
Her voice made him flinch. With another curse, he set her down. Dark eyes narrowed, he blocked her path, matching her move for move, using his body to herd her toward the back of the stall. Her shoulder blades bumped the stonewall.
Heartbeat hammering like runaway drums, her senses narrowed. Him. Her. The sound of the blood rushing in her ears. Naught else registered.
Lord above, she was in the worst sort of trouble.
He stood too close, hemming her in, taking her space, muddling her mind…making her notice things she shouldn’t. Terrible things. Foolish things….like his strength and size, the heat of his body, and the unbelievable scent of his skin.
Unable to stop herself, she drew in another breath. Hmm, he smelled so good, like a man should, as compelling as the woodlands at twilight and the roll of ocean waves. So unique. Utterly devastating. Far too dangerous and…
Good lord. She really had lost her mind. He was bent on murder, and what was she doing? Standing idle—like a lamb to the slaughter—while she gave him the opportunity to strike. Not the best game plan. But in all honesty, she didn’t know what else to do. Or what to say. Escape wasn’t an option. He was too fast, too strong, too, well…everything. And crying? Aurora clenched her teeth. Not a chance. She refused to give him the satisfaction. But as the silence stretched, dread coiled tight, and Aurora knew…just knew…being stretched on a rack, inch by excruciating inch, would prove more tolerable than the continued hush.
She cleared her throat, hoping the vocal nudge would help him get on with, well…whatever he planned to do to her. He shifted closer, but said naught, and she read between the lines. He wanted her to look at him. Why? She had no earthly idea. Mayhap he enjoyed seeing fear in another’s eyes. Mayhap he needed to see his victim’s expression as he strangled the life out of them. Mayhap he wanted to pull her brain out through her eye sockets. The possibilities where endless and not the least bit reassuring.
Becoming more desperate by the moment, Aurora kept her head down and shuffled sideways. He blocked the movement with his leg, bumping the outside of her thigh with the inside of his.
“Look at me.”
His deep voice, along with the innate thread of command in it, made her flinch. He prompted her again. She shook her head. With a low rumble, he bumped her with his knee again. And just like that, she cracked under the strain. “I…it’s just, well…heaven above, don’t kill me.”
With a sigh, he brought his hands up to cup her shoulders. Caressing her through the cloak, he dipped his head. The heat of his breath touched her skin. As she shivered in reaction, he pressed his cheek to the side of her temple. Tickled by his whiskers, Aurora blinked. What was he doing? Why was he being so gentle with her? Afraid of the answer, but too curious to remain timid, she raised her head. Gaze as dark as the midnight sky, he captured her own and…
Oh dear. Something wasn’t quite right.
He didn’t look like a man bent on thrashing anyone.
“Kill you, little heart?” Grasping her chin, his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Nay, I’ve something else in mind.”
Without further warning, he lowered his head. His mouth brushed over her, then delved deep and took full possession of hers. Shock spread like wildfire, swinging her from one emotion to the next. Heaven above, he was kissing her. Kissing her! Not killing her. Beyond unexpected. Baffling too. What in God’s name was he doing?
An excellent question.
One that flew right out of her head as he tempted her into compliance. Lips warm against hers, his taste invaded her mouth as his tongue flicked over her teeth. All sense—the common and every other kind—flew right out of her head. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t force her brain to tell her body that action of some kind was required. Or that self-preservation should be a priority. All she knew was him. The unique combination of rainwater, leather, and male overpowered her. Desire rose in its wake, demanding she participate and explore.
Aurora made a halfhearted attempt to move away, desperate to retain control of her slipping discipline. He held firm, nipping at her bottom lip, thrusting his hand into her hair while the other firmed on her chin. Applying gentle pressure, he coaxed and tempted until she opened her mouth. Pure pleasure arced on a jolt of heady awareness. Oh how incredible. She’d never been kissed like this before…with gentle passion and fierce longing.
’Twas unbelievably good. A rush of the best kind.
And as he drew her deeper, urging her to kiss him back, Aurora lost all sense of herself. Right. Wrong. Neither made sense anymore. All that mattered was him.
Opening her mouth wider, Aurora invited him in, daring him to teach about desire as she touched her tongue to his. He growled. The soft sound of pleasure spurred her own and heat spiraled low, tingling across her lower belly. Intoxicated by his taste, she responded without thought, welcoming him in, giving as good as he gave.
And then some.
Drawn into the provocative rhythm of his caresses, she purred as he sifted through the hair at her nape. His other hand skimmed her spine before settling at the small of her back. Pressing her closer still, he rocked his hips against her. She hummed and sent her hands skimming over the tops of his shoulder. Muscles flexed beneath her questing fingertips. He purred, allowing her leeway, encouraging her exploration. Showing him a little teeth, she nipped him before returning to taste him deep again. With a groan, he lifted his head, breaking the kiss as he pulled away. Chest pumping hard, he shook his head, then sucked in a deep breath and widened the distance between them. Hands still buried in his hair, she followed, tipped her chin up, asking without words for more.
He returned to kiss her softly, then met her gaze. “What is your name, little heart?”
Aurora blinked. Her name? Goodness, she should probably know that, ah…shouldn’t she? Without a doubt. But as she swayed against him, overloaded by sensation, she couldn’t stop the buzz inside her head. Or the burn in her blood. God help her. She might as well admit it. He’d kissed the sense clear out of her. Then again, mayhap she’d never had any to begin with. Nothing else explained the obvious…the fact she stood in the circle of his arms, asking for another round, needing another kiss, wanting to dance with the devil.
Dangerous. He was a serious, dangerous threat to her equilibrium.
“Give me the true one, vixen.” The gravel in his voice pulled her mind out of the gutter and back into the present. “The real one this time. I know it is not Ellie.”
“Aurora,” she said, her daze wearing off. Raising her hands from his shoulders, she touched her fingertips to her bottom lip. Unable to believe she’d reacted in such a wanton fashion, heat spread across her face.
He arched a brow. “Aurora what?”
“Aurora de Marquise, my lord.”
“Friend to Quinlyn of Crysdale?”
“Aye.” Unease made her shiver when he remained silent, studying her. “My lord, I would like to…ah, apologize for what happened in Hexham. I’m sorry, but—”
“Too little, too late.” An untrustworthy gleam sparked in his eyes. “You don’t do what you did to me and walk away unscathed.”
“I protected myself,” she said, an edge in her tone. “What else was I to have done—allow you to abuse me?”
“I wished to please you and compensate you well in the doing, not abuse you.”
She huffed. “I told you I was not a…well, that sort of woman. I said nay. You would have forced me had I not done what I did.”
“Nay, Aurora, I never would’ve done that. Persuaded you, mayhap, but—.”
“Ha. Forcefully persuaded.”
His eyes glittered in outrage. “Bloody hell, you insult me again. I do not force women.” He ignored her when she snorted in response. “Had you truly been unwilling, I would have fed you and let you go.”
“How was I to know that? And for that matter, how can I possibly believe you now?”
>
“Do not call me a liar, Aurora.”
Her name rolled off his tongue in a rumble. Unease drifted deep, tying her stomach in knots. “Nay, I am not, my lord, but—”
“Forget the ‘but.’” Settling his hands on her shoulders, he considered her, as if deciding something of tremendous importance. “There is no ‘but.’ You teased me, injured me, then stole my horse.”
“I didn’t steal him…” Aurora broke off when he raised a brow. His expression said liar. She found it difficult to disagree. For all his faults, he was right. Even so, she refused to admit it. If she wanted to win, she must hold the line. Deniability…plausible deniability. She needed some. Otherwise, he would twist the facts, and she would end up owing him something. “I didn’t. I borrowed him, ’tis all. He is content, housed just down the aisle in your keep and once more in your possession. So you see—”
He sighed. “Aurora, you stole him, and for your insults and my injuries, you owe me.”
Ah, and there it was…him twisting the facts to suit himself. “I owe you naught, my lord. Of all the conceited, overbearing...”
He pressed a finger to her lips, stopping her mid-stream. “Aye, you do,” he murmured, sliding his arm around her. Aurora almost snarled at him. How completely irritating. With him all over her, she had little breathing room, never mind any chance of escape. “’Tis called reparation, and I expect you to give me my due.”
“Make amends? Nay, ’tis my right to protect myself.” Determined to stay calm and defend her position, she corralled her rising anger. While she struggled to allay the explosion, curiosity crept to the fore. “How, precisely, does one grant reparation, anyway?”
He tilted his head, deliberating. “I have never demanded reparation from a woman before, so you will allow me to think on the matter a moment.”
Aurora tapped her toe, bristling with impatience. The straw rustled at their feet a moment before she demanded, “Well?”
The brute smiled, all teeth and wolfish intent. “You will allow me to play a little. Kisses and small intimacies willingly given will—”
“Not bloody likely.”
“I will not take your maidenhead, little heart, you’ve my word.” He ignored her when she growled at him. “But you promised me pleasure in Hexham, and honor demands I receive a little.”
Honor. Ha! Aurora almost lost the battle with her compulsion to throttle him. “Nay, not in this lifetime, you—”
“Then you leave me little choice,” he said, a warning in his tone. “I will have my pleasure, but ’tis best you know the next time you meet me head on. There are consequences for your actions. You shall learn that now for what happened in Hexham.”
His grip firmed. Her feet left the floor as he pivoted, turning her away from the wall toward the door.
“What are you…put me down!”
Surprise, surprise, Brigham didn’t listen. Manhandling her, he hauled her across the stall and sat down on a large mound of hay. Before Aurora could stop him, he settled her face down across his thighs. One big hand pressed to the small of her back, he raised her cloak with the other. With a screech, she twisted in his lap, trying to use her arms as leverage. He was too quick. Too strong. Too much of a brute, and before Aurora knew what hit her, he’d maneuvered her into position before she managed to raise her head.
Her hiss of fury turned into a yelp as his palm connected with her backside.
Rage and indignation collided.
Calling him every name she could think of—which, much to her regret, were entirely too few—she struggled in his grasp. His hand came down again. The gentle slap didn’t hurt—not really—but tears welled anyway. How dare he? What right did he have to touch her this way? Treat her with such…such…
More tears blurred her vision.
Aurora vowed not to shed them. She might be powerless against the onslaught, but she refused to show him weakness by crying. But God’s teeth, the entire thing stung her pride. And as the humiliation settled deep, she started to tremble—to forsake vanity in the face of self-preservation. Between one breath and the next, she broke, each word hitching against the back of her throat as she begged him to stop.
Hand poised in mid-air, Brigham cursed. Cupping her waist, he turned her over to hold her gently in his lap. She wasted no time escaping him. Rolling off his knees, she scrambled to her feet.
“You brutish, dog-hearted lout,” Aurora rasped, trying to save face as she backed toward the stall door. “You had no right.”
“The right was mine, vixen.” A muscle twitched along Brigham’s jaw. “I was gentle in the doing, Aurora. I did not hurt you, but you needed to know. I will have my due in all things.”
“Nay, do not touch me,” she gasped when he shifted, on the verge of coming after her. “You are never to touch me again!”
Whirling around, Aurora squeezed past the doorframe and ran, so eager to evade him she forgot to look behind to see if he followed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Revenge, Thy Name Is Warlord
Brigham remained seated with his hands fisted on his knees, barely able to keep from going after her. The saucy wench. Her audacity knew no bounds. The fact she’d called him names and hurled threats while he meted out her punishment was all the proof he required. Well, lady or nay, she’d deserved the flat of his hand on her backside.
Most men would have given her far more for her actions. Like a noose around her neck. Horse thieves, after all, got hung all the time.
But then, most men were idiots who lead with their pride.
The thought helped cool his temper. He wasn’t like the fools at court. Aye, he always demanded his due, but he wasn’t cruel. And he never allowed anger to cloud his judgment. Today, though, he’d done just that, allowing Aurora to get under his skin.
Inhaling deep, he took a cleansing breath and forced his heart into a steady rhythm. As the hammering beat slowed, an image of Aurora lying prone across his lap morphed in his mind’s eye. He rubbed his hand over his forehead. Goddamn it. No matter how much she deserved the lesson, he should’ve kept his hands to himself. His memory served up more of their encounter. His gut twisted.
Bloody hell, he’d made her cry.
Like poison, guilt seeped through his core, eroding certitude as he pictured her tear-stained face. Of a sudden, he felt like the brute she had called him. Had he been too harsh with her? Used too much of his strength to chasten her? Brow furrowed, he relived her reaction, felt her body stiffen and heard her screams of fury. After a moment, he shook his head. Nay. He knew his own strength. He’d been gentle. Had only used enough to sting her a little. She might be a touch tender on the morrow, but she’d suffer no more than he had…
A red face and bruised pride.
Relief flooded him even as self-reproach took hold again. He hated tears. Didn’t have the first clue about how to deal with a woman in the throes of emotional upheaval. Not surprising. It wasn’t as though he spent any time talking with the fairer sex. Bed-play was one thing, but sticking around for a conversation in the aftermath…quite another. So nay. He couldn’t tell if Aurora’s upset had been real. Or if his guilt was warranted. And if it wasn’t? If her reaction had been feigned in a misguided attempt to stay his hand— Christ, he would wring her beautiful neck.
With a scowl, Brigham pushed to his feet and started to pace. The stall walls closed him in, and rolling his shoulders, he made circuit after circuit, trying to puzzle it out. Having been on the receiving end of a woman’s tears a time or two, he knew many used such tactics to attain what they wanted. ’Twas a despicable female ploy designed to do one thing: manipulate whatever hapless male happened to be in the vicinity.
With his age and experience, he thought himself immune to such schemes. Why, then, did tears shed by a redheaded vixen disturb him so much? Mayhap, ’twas the fact he wanted her so badly. Aye, mayhap, that was it. His attraction to her bordered on insanity, surpassing anything he’d ever known. ’Twas why he’d been so offended by her ac
tions in Hexham. She’d promised him heaven—the moon, sun, and all the stars too—then taken all chance of obtaining it away.
He rolled his chin against his chest, aware denial was not something a man of his temperament tolerated well. The bit of truth scraped him raw. Halting in the center of the stall, Brigham sighed, realizing he had naught but denial ahead of him. No matter how much he wanted to bed Aurora, he couldn’t touch her. Aye, he may have enjoyed provoking her with the promise of reparation, demanding kisses and small intimacies. But he would never dishonor her in such a way. In all honesty, he’d been unable to resist teasing her, captivated by the idea she might well agree to his method of making amends. At the time, her willingness to play with him had seemed more than worth the risk of rejection.
The sting, however, was more pointed than he’d imagined, and now, the need to protect her virtue warred with the urge to teach the vixen a thing or two about respect. His mouth curved. The notion appealed to him. No doubt about it. Aurora needed another lesson, just a small one that would end after he appeased his desire to chase and made her sweat a little. ’Twould be an easy, uncomplicated affair. He would pursue, make her believe his intentions dishonorable. But in the end, she would remain innocent and they would both go their separate ways.
“He did what?” Bafflement playing across her face, Quinlyn stared at her as though she’d just announced the end of the world.
Aurora didn’t blame her. Particularly after the whopper she’d dropped upon entering the keep. So she nodded instead, gratified by her friend’s outrage along with her quick thinking…and faster action. One look at her, and Quinlyn had whisked her out of the kitchens and up to her chamber.
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