They ate in relative silence, making mundane remarks about the flavor of this dish and that. Finally Cahill cleared his throat and said, “I cannot go on like this. I must make my intentions known.”
Slowly Brea looked up from her food. The firelight flickered in Cahill’s dark eyes, making him appear more sinister than regal.
“Breanna, I beg you. No, I beseech you to consent to be my wife.”
Though Brea knew it was coming, had known his intentions all along, her answer became lodged in her throat. She licked her suddenly dry lips and said, “I’m sorry, Cahill. I can’t.”
He didn’t move for a long time. Finally he spoke. “Why?”
All her old resentments, her old prejudices about marriage reared their ugly heads in her mind. “I know how these things work. The minute I marry you, I belong to you. I give up everything.”
“What do you give up?” Cahill argued. “Marry me and you gain a title and a kingdom.”
“Both of which I already have,” Brea countered.
“Bah!” Cahill fumed. “You have nothing.”
“Nothing?” Brea rose in anger. “I have everything I need, Prince.” She limped purposefully around to the other side of the table, using the fact that he was still seated to her advantage. “I don’t need your land, I don’t need your title.” With each item she listed, she poked him in the shoulder. “I don’t need a stinking husband to making demands of me once he thinks he owns me.”
“What do you mean, make demands?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m not one of your sheltered young princesses who has no idea of the filthy rutting tendencies of men. I know what goes on behind closed doors.”
Cahill’s expression changed. First understanding, then shock, and then anger. “You’re not a virgin,” he said in a low voice. “Someone abused you.”
Brea laughed. “No, I’m a virgin.” She pulled her dagger out from her leather belt and twisted it between her hands. “I wouldn’t let a stinking, breeding male near enough to abuse me.”
Cahill frowned. “Then what do you know of things that take place ‘behind closed doors’?”
“You may find this shocking, Your Highness, but commoners rut regardless of whether doors are open or closed. In fact doors have very little to do with it. Stables, tavern floors, up against walls.” Brea shivered with revulsion. “Beastly copulations. No thank you.”
“Ah,” Cahill said. “A tavern education.” He stood, and Brea found herself no longer at an advantage. “I’m afraid, Princess, your education may be lacking. What you have witnessed is only a very limited version of the act in question.”
“I’d wager I know more than enough.”
“A wager.” The prince smiled as he lifted her chin with his thumb, forcing her to look at him. “Now that’s a wager I’d be willing to take.”
Brea scowled, but Cahill tightened his grip on her chin, holding her in place. “What if I was to convince you otherwise, Princess? What if I was to prove there was more to this carnal act than you are aware and what if I was to wager that by the end of it, you will be begging me to take you to our marriage bed?”
Still holding her dagger, Brea pressed the tip into the juncture of his rib cage. With satisfaction she watched his eyes widen at the sharp pain of it. “I will make no such wager.”
Cahill released her face and stepped back, out of the reach of her dagger’s lethal point. “Because you know you’ll lose.”
“Ha!”
“Remind me, Brea, who was tugging at the draw to my breeches the other day. I might be mistaken, but I’m almost certain it was you.”
“You swine!”
“Yes. A talking swine, at that. Come on, Brea. Stop fighting it.” His hand moved so swiftly she wasn’t able to get away in time. He grasped her wrist and squeezed until she dropped the dagger. Then he pulled Brea to the bed of furs and pushed her down. “Tell me you don’t want me.”
“I don’t want you,” she snapped. And she didn’t. Not logically. But apparently her hands did because they wound around Cahill’s neck and pulled him down onto the furs beside her.
Snow
Deborah M. Brown
When her prince comes, her dream could turn into a nightmare.
An Enchanted Story
It’s not that Anais hates her new stepdaughter. She simply has bigger things on her mind, like birthing a son for the aging king. Temptation beckons in the mirror eyes of the king’s huntsman, leading her down a path of dark desires until, by the time she realizes Rui’s true nature, it is too late. Her heart is ensnared, and she will do anything to keep him in her arms. Especially when his roving eyes land on the princess…and Anais’s indifference turns to hate.
Upon her father’s death, the painfully shy Snow White quickly learns she can rely on no one—least of all the stepmother she once hoped would become a friend. Surrounded by undercurrents of treachery she cannot hope to understand, she turns to her seven dwarven guards for guidance. Freed of their magical bindings, these small yet perfectly formed, handsome men vow to open her innocent eyes to the dangers of court politics…and the ways of men.
Yet lust is a cruel master, and Snow White’s girlish longing for purest love could blind her to the destruction that waits to take a bite out of her dreams…
Warning: Contains explicit sex scenes between a queen and her lover, the lover and his male lover, and—yes—proof that size doesn’t matter when it comes to true lust, er, love.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Snow
Copyright © 2010 by Deborah M. Brown
ISBN: 978-1-60928-168-7
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Kanaxa
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First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2010
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Snow Page 9
