Lindsey, Johanna - Prisoner Of My Desire

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by Prisoner Of My Desire (lit)

?Certainly I fear him. He holds my life in his hands.?

  ?Nay, he is no killer of women. But even Celia hid from him when he was angry,

  and everyone here could see how angry he wasand then you made him laugh. ?Tis a

  rare thing, to hear him laugh.?

  For some unaccountable reason, Rowena felt a sadness upon hearing that, but she

  quickly shook it off. Twas naught to her if the man had little enjoyment out of

  life. She had had little enough herself these past years.

  Though she would rather have stayed and talked, feeling she might have a friend

  in Emma, she left the girl, too conscious of Warrick?s order to appear in his

  chambernay, in his bed. And now that her embarrassment had worn off, she had

  that order to deal with and the nervousness it was already generating in her.

  Verily, she had him set up ripely for her seduction, or rather, he had set

  himself up for it with his ribald teasing earlier at the table. She need not

  even be subtle about it now. The only thing that could thwart her plan was if he

  thought she was motivated by fear, rather than by actual desire for him. She

  would have to appear in no way fearful. But the thought of seducing him and the

  actual act of seducing him were in no wise the same, and her nervousness was so

  close to fear, it was indistinguishable to her.

  And what if ?twas all for naught, if her overtures made no difference in his

  treatment of her? Mildred was certain it would be otherwise, but Rowena was less

  so. And yet? he had been stirred to lust by a mere few words, and it had

  drastically changed his moodnot his treatment of her, but definitely his humor.

  She would just have to wait and see what further advances on her part would do.

  Rowena entered the inner solar and had no more than glanced at the bed, which

  she had no intention of waiting in for Warrick, when he closed the door behind

  her. She swung around with a start. He had to have followed her as soon as she

  passed his table, yet he had still seemed deep in conversation. And then she

  noted the heat still in his eyes and she understood.

  The man wanted her right now, wanted her badly. He had not been willing to wait

  any longer. The thought gave her a heady sense of power. Twould make what she

  would do and say so much easier. But it also, to her chagrin, stirred her own

  senses to arousal.

  He stood there in front of the door, staring at her while he slowly unclasped

  his mantle. He was wearing a rich brown tunic embroidered at hem and neck in

  gold. The color suited his dark gold hair, grown long since his confinement at

  Kirkburough, to where it now reached his wide shoulders. He was not frowning, so

  the handsomeness of his features was there to see and disturb her senses.

  Rowena found it difficult to look at him when he was like this, normal, not the

  cruel monster she knew he could be. Since shyness was appropriate on her part

  after what she had said to him in the hall, she took refuge in it and lowered

  her eyes.

  ?Come here, Rowena.?

  She did not hesitate to approach him, but she would not meet his eyes again.

  Those expressive eyes did things to her that she could not control.

  ?So you want to share my bed??

  ?Aye.?

  ?Why??

  God?s mercy, could he not take her at her word? Why? She had not thought there

  would be an interrogation, and could not think now with him so close.

  ?Why does any woman want to share a man?s bed?? she countered lamely.

  ?Because mine is softer than yours.?

  Her eyes shot up to clash with his. The bastard. He doubted her, was going to

  make her work to convince him. She had not wanted to seduce him in the first

  place. She would be damned if she would grovel to do it.

  ?That is true,? she said stiffly.

  ?Yet I do not get much sleep in yours. Mayhap mine is preferable after all.?

  She turned away angrily, but he caught her arm and yanked her hard against his

  chest. And then his mouth was showing her what she had made him feel, passion

  blistering hot, consuming. She clung to him as her limbs got weaker, clung to

  him because she could do naught else. And he was relentless in his assault,

  determined to make her feel what he felt, and God?s mercy, she did.

  She nearly crumbled to the floor when he released her. He did not notice. He had

  moved away from her, his body taut with agitation. He sat down on his bed,

  running both hands so hard through his hair that Rowena winced in empathy for

  his scalp. But when his eyes lit on her again, she groaned inwardly. He wore his

  crudest look now, the one she dreaded.

  ?Do you still maintain you want me, wench??

  If she said aye, he was going to make her suffer for it, she knew it, read it in

  his eyes. But if she said nay, he was likely to try and prove her a liar, and

  just now, with the taste of him still on her lips, she was not sure if a nay

  would be the truth. Either way she was going to loseor win. But winning was

  going to cost her more of her pride, for ?twas a two edged sword, her plan. She

  knew now that she was going to bleed a little from her part in it.

  He waited patiently, giving her ample time to take the coward?s path. She

  stiffened her resolve. She would see it through, whatever the cost.

  ?I still want you, my lord.?

  He did not answer for a moment. ?Twas almost as if he could not. And then his

  voice came out in a husky rasp.

  ?I require proof. Show me.?

  She had expected no less. She walked toward him slowly, unlacing her bliaut on

  the way. This she pulled over her head as she stopped within reach of him. The

  chemise she unlaced more slowly. In truth, she was mesmerized watching him watch

  her undress, for everything he felt was there for her to see, and that sense of

  power was back, giving her a boldness she would not have otherwise dared.

  She let the chemise drop to the floor, leaving only her shift, stockings, and

  shoes. To untie a shoe, she did not bend over, but put her foot up on the bed

  next to Warrick?s thigh. ?Twas wantonly brazen, deliberately so, and it was his

  undoing. He groaned. His arm reached out to wrap around her bottom and pull her

  forward. She landed hard against him, her knees sliding on either side of his

  hips, her back bent awkwardly as he pressed his face into the soft mounds of her

  breasts.

  ?Twas an arousing embrace. It also struck a tender cord in her, for he did

  naught else, just held her like that for a time. She wrapped her own arms around

  his head, not sure anymore if she was playing a part or acting of her own accord,

  for it felt right to hold him like that.

  And then he tilted his head back and told her ?Kiss me.?

  She did, placing her hands on his cheeks, a kiss void of passion, sweetly

  innocentfor all of the three seconds it took him to participate. His lips nudged

  hers open, his tongue licking the insides before thrusting deep into her mouth.

  For the first time she thrust back tentatively with her tongue and felt the

  thrill of aggression, then was overwhelmed by the passion her small response

  unleashed in him.

  He dropped back on the bed, taking her with him, his mouth devouring hers now.

  But he quickly rolled over, pressing the hard bulge of his manroot b
etween her

  legs, and her pulses leaped, her insides rolled, her heart slammed out of beat.

  Her fingers had worked their way into his hair and were gripping great handfuls.

  She needed that anchor, for her rioting senses were leaving her control.

  She groaned when he left her, but it was only to straddle her thighs, and that

  to whisk the shift from her body, naked now before him. His eyes burned her,

  then his hands, bringing gasp after gasp as they slid slowly up her belly to cup

  her breasts. One he held captured for his mouth as he bent over to roll the

  tender bud on his tongue before he tried to draw the whole plump mound into his

  mouth.

  She lost her breath with the next gasp, was unaware that she arched toward him,

  that she held his head in a viselike grip, unconsciously demanding more.

  She actually cried out in protest when he stopped to lean back again. But he

  displayed no triumphant smile upon hearing it. His need was too great, leaving

  no room for petty revenge just now.

  His breath came hard. His eyes would not leave her as he attempted to shed his

  clothing. The rich tunic was ripped in its removal. Rowena sat up to help, but

  her fingers trembled so, she only succeeded in knotting the laces on his

  chausses, and those were ripped, too, when he took over the task. And then his

  manroot was there between them, inflamed, velvet steel, and it seemed the most

  natural thing in the world for her to wrap her hand around it.

  He sucked in his breath before he groaned ?Nay,? and took her hand in his and

  held it to the bed. She whimpered at the restraint, but his mouth came down to

  take the sound, then his body came down to spread her thighs, and she cared

  about naught except the heat about to enter her. Her free hand she brought to

  his lower back, as far as she could reach, to urge him on. But he was holding

  himself back, and that hand found itself imprisoned also as he fought for

  control only she could not wait any longer.

  ?Nowplease, Warrick, now!? she begged, this time without his command, and this

  time with immediate compliance.

  He plunged. She melted around him. He thrust hard and fast. She screamed in her

  climax, reached before him, continuing after him, so intense she nearly fainted.

  She was floating in languid contentment when she heard him say a while later,

  ?I wonder if I will ever have you at my leisure, wench, or will you always

  provoke me to such madness??

  Rowena merely smiled.

  Chapter 30

  Warrick was still there when Rowena awoke the next morn, still lying beside her

  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

  qui
ck 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

 

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