Prisoner of My Desire

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Prisoner of My Desire Page 23

by Johanna Lindsey


  in his big bed, but not still asleep. She had the feeling he had been watching

  her for some time without her knowing it, and the thought disturbed her, for he

  looked too serious by half this morn.

  ?You should have awakened me, my lord, and sent me about my duties.?

  ?Should I? Why, when one of your duties now, by your own behest, is right where

  you are??

  The blush spread across her cheeks with exceptional speed.

  ?Does that mean I am to ignore my other duties??

  ?Ah,? he said, as if in sudden understanding.

  ?Now do we have a motive for why you sought my bed.?

  ?I did notthe labors that presently fill my day do not overtax meas yet.?

  ?As yet?? He frowned, until his gaze dropped to her belly, and then those silver

  eyes were like shards of ice. And yet his voice continued mild, deceptively so.

  ?I see. Once again you prove yourself incredibly stupid to remind me of the

  child you stole from me. But then, this is just another motive that can be

  attributed to your sudden passion for me, is it not? Or do you tell me now that

  you had no thought to bargain with me for the babel?

  ?I want it. I cannot deny that.?

  ?Enough to spread your legs for me whenever I say??

  How could she have forgotten his cruelty, or how much she hated it, when that

  was what she was trying to end? Obviously, what passed between them during the

  night had changed him not a whit, which was a crushing realization but she was

  forgetting that he did not believe she really wanted him, and that was why he

  was taunting her now. And she could think of no further way to convince him, be

  it lie or not.

  It made her angry, suddenly, to have failed so completely. Why could the man not

  simply accept what she offered? Why did he have to search for hidden motives?

  And his damn questionwell, she was just angry enough to spread her legs wide

  beneath the cover, just wide enough for him to notice, and taunt him back.

  ?Come, then, Sir Dragon, and breathe your fire on me.?

  His frown turned black as sin.

  ?I want a reason, wench, and I want it now.?

  She began heatedly, glaring right back at him.

  ?You are cruel in all your demands, vengeful in all your motives, yet when you

  touch me, you are naught but gentle.?

  She was amazed that the words were coming to her after all, and so she quickly

  amended her tone, adding uncertainty to it, and a blush for good measure.

  ?I did not want to admit it to myself, certainly not to you, but I find II crave

  your touch.?

  God?s mercy, but she was getting good at lying. And his expression changed. She

  could tell that he wanted to believe her, and thatthat put a tightness in her

  throat that was distinctly unpleasant.

  ?Were you so hot for my body, you would not wait this long to tempt it into

  pleasuring you again. Must I needs teach you the ploys of a whore??

  The insult did not touch her this time, for she recognized it for what it was,

  an attempt to fight the temptation to believe her. Did he think no woman could

  want him without an ulterior motive? She recalled Emma?s words that the women

  were awed that she did not fear him. And Mildred had said that for half his life

  he had been the hard, vengeful man he was today. Was that all he expected then,

  fear? And what woman could truly want him if she feared him?

  She spared a moment to wonder why she did not fear him anymore, before she put

  her hand to the center of his chest to push him down from his half leaning

  position.

  ?Mayhap you will have to teach me, my Lord Warrick/? she said softly, now

  leaning over him.

  ?I have some little advice to go by, yet I am sure I could benefit from more.?

  Her hand slipped under the cover and she found to her amazement that he had not

  been immune to their close proximity. Neither had she. Nor was she immune to

  touching him. It should have been difficult. She should have had to force

  herself. But it was easy, too easyshe liked doing it. So did he. His eyes closed.

  His breathing quickened. And ?twas not long before she was flat on her back

  again, with his mouth fastened on hers, and his hands paying her back in kind

  for the sweet torment she had just brought him.

  But before he got around to giving Rowena what she now desperately wanted,

  Bernard walked into the chamber unannounced, as was his habit. The poor boy went

  up in flames of embarrassment when he saw that Warrick would not appreciate

  being disturbed, and to give him credit, he did try to leave without disturbing

  the occupied occupants of the bed. But Warrick was too much a man of war and

  quick responses not to have heard the intrusion.

  He lifted his head to snarl ?What??

  And Bernard could only stammer ?Father? here? with bride.?

  Rowena heard the message in confusion. Since Warrick?s father was supposedly

  dead, the squire might mean his own father, or one of Warrick?s two fathers in

  law. But that word ?bride? half succeeded in blunting her aroused senses.

  Warrick, however, suffered no bewilderment over the cryptic message.

  ?Are they only approaching Fulkhurst, or have they already arrived??

  The calmness of that question gave the boy back his own composure.

  ?They are within the hall, my lord, and are desirous of your presence. Do I tell

  them??

  ?Tell them naught. I will be there in a moment to make them welcome.?

  Rowena gathered from that answer that Warrick was not going to finish what they

  had started, and her body was screaming in protest. Her face, however, was

  utterly void of expression when he turned his attention back to her. His was not.

  He looked frustrated, chagrined, and after he studied her for a moment, resigned.

  ?Lord Reinard?s timing leaves much to be desired.?

  He sighed and rolled away from her.

  She found she wanted to grab him back to her. That word ?bride? was now giving

  her a distinct chill. But she did naught to let him know how disturbed she

  suddenly was.

  ?Twas safe, however, for her to ask ?Is Lord Reinard one of your fathers by

  marriage??

  ?Soon to be.?

  There it was, her worst fear confirmed. Gone now was her opportunity to gentle

  this man. With his betrothed arrived, he would no longer dally with Rowena. And

  soon a wife would share this bed with him. What, then, would he do with his

  prisoner? Put her back in his dungeon? Make her serve both him and his new bride?

  ?So your betrothed is found,? she said tonelessly as she watched him rummage

  through a chest for clothes, something splendid, no doubt, for his precious Lady

  Isabella.

  ?At least that is one crime no longer set at my door.?

  He gave her a sharp look.

  ?Do not count yourself free of blame yet, wench, until I learn what, exactly,

  has kept her missing these many weeks.?

  She said naught to that. She did not care what the lady?s excuse was; she only

  knew that she wished Isabella had not been found. And that was a disturbing

  realization, for she should not care either way.

  Warrick was ignoring her again, his mind on his waiting guests. Rowena could not

  ignore him as easily, though her mind was likewise on his guests. But even as

  he
r worry increased about how this new situation would affect her, her eyes were

  fastened to Warrick?s splendid nakedness, the long bare flanks so thickly

  muscled, the tight curve of his buttocks, the muscles bunching and rippling on

  his broad back with his movements. Strength and power in every hard line, and?

  beauty, aye, there was beauty in such stark masculinity. In no wise could she

  deny it, nor the need still coursing through her to feel that splendid body

  pressed tightly to hers.

  He turned slightly before he bent to put on his braies, and she saw that the

  same need was still prevalent in him also, though he was ignoring it just as he

  was ignoring herat least that was what she thought until her eyes drifted up

  again to find that he had caught her in her blatant scrutiny of him.

  He came back to the bed then and, without a word, caught her behind the neck and

  drew her toward him until his mouth was grinding hard against hers. Her heart

  thudded with relief, but before she could get her arms even halfway around him

  to urge him back into the bed, he released her. His visage was a terrible

  mixture of desire and anger just then, anger, no doubt, because she was tempting

  him to ignore his precious Isabella. Obviously the temptation was not quite

  enough.

  In that she was not entirely correct.

  ?Stay exactly as you are, wench,? he ordered harshly.

  ?I will return ere the fire dies from those sapphire eyes, and we will see if

  you can fulfill the promise in them.?

  He did not see the blush creep up her cheeks as he turned away to finish

  dressing with haste. She was not supposed to be as easy to read as he was, but

  obviously this once she had hidden naught from him. It made her feel more

  vulnerable than she had at any other time with this man. It was one thing for

  her to admit to herself that she could want him, did want him, at least right

  then. It was something else again to let him see it for himself without her lies

  to convince him of it. Lies? Mayhap earlier when she had been in control of

  herself, some of her actions and words had been lies, but they were not lies now.

  He left the room without looking toward her again. Vaguely she noted that he had

  yanked on a bare minimum of clothing, none designed to impress a long awaited

  bride. In fact, she thought smugly, he looked quite sloppy and harried, and with

  his emotions still on the angry side, the cruel lines of his face were well in

  place. He would be lucky if his lady bride did not take one look at him and

  burst into tears.

  The thought made Rowena smile, but only for a moment. Then her anxieties

  returned with a vengeance. No matter how Isabella reacted to Warrick, she was

  still here to wed him. A bride?s fear was the last thing that could stop a

  wedding from taking place, so it would happen, and that meant Rowena?s situation

  would change, and no matter how she looked at it, she did not see her own lot

  improving with the change.

  She might still inflame Warrick?s lust, but he would now have a wife to slake it

  on, leaving only his subtle cruelties and little revenges for Rowena. Without

  the intimate contact that his lust had brought so far, she would have no hope of

  altering his treatment of her. Verily, it would only get worse.

  She had been ordered to stay in his bed, but she could not. She got up, dressed

  quickly, then paced the floor in her agitation, awaiting his return. But he did

  not come back as soon as his parting words had predicted. And whatever desires

  he had stirred to life in her were long since cooled.

  She finally curled up on the hard bench of the window embrasure to do her

  fretting. Twas not long before she drew the definite conclusion that it would

  behoove her to reevaluate the possibility of escapemayhap during the excitement

  of the wedding.

  Warrick returned suddenly without warning, only he was not alone. The woman who

  followed on his heels was tall and richly gownedand pale as new parchment. She

  was hauntingly lovely in her paleness, with her raven hair and dark green eyes.

  She was also terribly nervous about something, though there was a resigned,

  determined look to her.

  Rowena noted this with wide eyes. She could not understand why Warrick had

  brought the lady here, when if Rowena had followed his orders she would still be

  lying naked in his bed. He could not have forgotten that, could he? Nay, he

  looked toward the bed first, and when he found it empty, his eyes searched until

  he located Rowena tucked deep in the embrasure.

  She saw immediately that he wanted something of her. She sensed it the same way

  as before, when he had been chained in front of her and she had felt she could

  read his thoughts. But she could not grasp what it was that he wanted this time,

  until she heard what Isabella began saying.

  The woman was afraid, aye, and with reason. What she was confessing to Warrick?s

  hard back was why she did not love him. And now Rowena knew exactly what he

  wanted of her. He wanted to show Isabella that what she was telling him mattered

  not at all to him, but just to say so would not suffice. Rowena was not sure if

  ?twas only his pride he wanted to protect, or if he also wanted to relieve the

  lady?s anxieties. Either way, he obviously had hoped he would find Rowena where

  he had left her, a position that would have spoken more clearly than words.

  She was not sure why she wanted to aid him or even how she could, but she stood

  up to reveal herself to the other woman. That, unfortunately, was not enough.

  Isabella was too deeply into her explanation to care that a servant was present.

  She was trying earnestly to make Warrick listen to her, while he would not even

  turn around to face her, but continued to watch Rowena instead.

  Rowena approached them both, but she stopped before Warrick, telling him without

  words that he could make use of her presence however he chose. What he chose to

  do was face Isabella now with Rowena behind his back, but he put his hand behind

  him until she took it, then drew her closer until she actually leaned against

  his back. What this tableau would appear like to Isabella, if she deigned to

  notice, was Rowena shyly hiding behind Warrick, with him trying to reassure her

  without actually drawing attention to her.

  Mayhap it was a bit too subtle for Isabella, for she had not even paused in her

  lengthy explanation of how she and someone named Miles Fergant had loved each

  other since childhood. Rowena could have been invisible for all the norice she

  was getting. Better to have just brazenly returned to Warrick?s bed, mayhap even

  stripped off her clothes again. She smiled to herself at the absurd thought,

  then almost laughed aloud when it occurred to her that Isabella still might not

  have noticed thatbut Warrick certainly would have.

  The moment of whimsy put her in a mischievous state of mind that she had not

  experienced in a goodly number of years. She considered wrapping her arms around

  Warrick?s waist from behind. Nay, too bold. She slipped her hand out of his

  instead, saw his back tense, but he relaxed when he felt her hands settle on his

  sides, just above his hips. Her fingers were not actually noticeable, but she

>   was no longer even thinking about giving Isabella something to see. Twas Warrick

  she felt like teasing now, and tease him she did, running her hands slowly up

  his sides, feeling him stiffen, then try to stop her movement by pressing his

  arms tight to his sides. She merely worked her fingers loose and moved them down

  to his hips.

  She almost burst out laughing when she heard him suck in his breath. But when

  she brought one hand back to pat his buttock, he startled her by swinging around

  and pinning her with a look that for once she could not read. She gave him an

  owl eyed look of innocence in return, which brought the tiniest curve to his

  lips before he recalled himself and glared a warning at her. She was supposed to

  be aiding him in dealing with Isabella?s confession, not distracting him from

  listening to it.

  And then they both noticed the sudden silence behind them, just before Isabella

  asked impatiently ?Warrick, who is that woman?? J

  He turned back around. Rowena stuck just her! head around his wide shoulder.

  ?She is my prisoner,? was all Warrick offered in answer.

  I

  ?Lady Rowena of Kirkburough,? Rowena added at about the same instant, well aware

  that he would not have, and aware too that he would not like it that she did.

  She was right. The rejoinder he came back with made her flinch.

 

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