reveal a golden tan. He wore his hair loose, falling to his shoulders with a healthy shine.
For a moment, she tried to align the forbidding figure with the intimacy of her dream, but quickly shook her head in disgust when she became aware of what she was doing.
How long has he been standing there?
A mocking smile tipped his lips and fed the creases at his eyes. He was laughing. At her! Amber sat up, dragging the covers with her.
“I’m done,” she said shortly. She’d never succumbed to a fit of anything in her life, and she wasn’t about to explain what and who had brought on her first.
He nodded. “How are ye feeling this morning?”
His smile faded as he walked closer, but the expression on his face held some warmth. She didn’t trust it one bit.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
When Krayne reached the bed and sat down, she bunched the blanket high up her chest. His gaze lingered on her lips, then slipped lower.
She knew he had no interest in undressing her with his eyes.
Knew he saw nothing he especially wanted. Nothing that he couldn’t get elsewhere with much less effort.
And yet, passion’s teeth, it was impossible to remember how safe from his lust she was when that dark glint chased the misty grey from his eyes and turned them pewter. Even more impossible to remember why she did not want that lust.
He sprang up suddenly and went back to his position against the wall.
She closed her eyes on a sigh. Her wanton behaviour had to end. She was a lady, not some serving woman to bed a man not her husband. Not that she would. I certainly would not! Her parents’ shame would haunt her from their graves.
She had to make a stand. Krayne was the enemy. She couldn’t afford to dither between fleeing the man and falling into his arms, even if he would have her.
Stivin’s life was at stake. Mayhap her own, too.
“I am neither cold nor heartless,” he said.
Her eyes snapped open to find him frowning at her. “I sincerely doubt that. Since I’ve made your acquaintance, I have been beaten—”
“A pat on the rump,” he interjected.
She glowered at him, raising her voice. “ Beaten, stripped of my clothing, thrown into some hell pit—”
“Ye deserved worse, according to Duncan.”
“Almost fell to my death—”
“Yer own doing.” His eyes narrowed in warning.
She took pleasure in ignoring it. “Degraded into sharing your chamber—”
“Actually, I slept elsewhere.”
He had? Where?
A knowing grin chased the frown from his brows.
He couldn’t read her mind, she assured herself. And if he could, he’d know that those silent questions were idle curiosity, nothing more.
“Stolen from my home and held against my will,” she finished with a triumphant glare.
But Krayne only shrugged. “The land makes us what we are.”
“That’s right,” she snorted. “Shift the blame.”
“I will not argue circles with ye.”
“Of course not. Very well, you talk, and I’ll just agree to everything you say. That’s what you wish, is it not? And what the mighty laird wishes, he gets!” It was unwise to bait him, but her blood was too hot to care. She was looking for a fight. “I’m not one of the devoted servants you surround yourself with.”
“Nay, yer my prisoner. And ye’d do well ta not forget that.”
“Or what?” Amber challenged, her chin raised in defiance.
His expression darkened as he glared her down.
But just when she thought she’d broken through his restraint, Krayne chuckled. “Pull in yer claws, wildcat, fer I’ll not play yer games.”
“Trust me, this is no game.”
“I truly hope ye remember that when the next foolish notion ta escape fills yer head.”
“I’m a prisoner,” she pointed out. “’Tis my duty to escape.”
“Yer duty is ta Stivin.” His gaze turned black, straining at the edges of control. “Or have ye already forgotten yer lover?”
Lover? Her jaw dropped at the preposterous notion.
“Let me remind ye,” Krayne
For a moment, she tried to align the forbidding figure with the intimacy of her dream, but quickly shook her head in disgust when she became aware of what she was doing.
How long has he been standing there?
A mocking smile tipped his lips and fed the creases at his eyes. He was laughing. At her! Amber sat up, dragging the covers with her.
“I’m done,” she said shortly. She’d never succumbed to a fit of anything in her life, and she wasn’t about to explain what and who had brought on her first.
He nodded. “How are ye feeling this morning?”
His smile faded as he walked closer, but the expression on his face held some warmth. She didn’t trust it one bit.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
When Krayne reached the bed and sat down, she bunched the blanket high up her chest. His gaze lingered on her lips, then slipped lower.
She knew he had no interest in undressing her with his eyes.
Knew he saw nothing he especially wanted. Nothing that he couldn’t get elsewhere with much less effort.
And yet, passion’s teeth, it was impossible to remember how safe from his lust she was when that dark glint chased the misty grey from his eyes and turned them pewter. Even more impossible to remember why she did not want that lust.
He sprang up suddenly and went back to his position against the wall.
She closed her eyes on a sigh. Her wanton behaviour had to end. She was a lady, not some serving woman to bed a man not her husband. Not that she would. I certainly would not! Her parents’ shame would haunt her from their graves.
She had to make a stand. Krayne was the enemy. She couldn’t afford to dither between fleeing the man and falling into his arms, even if he would have her.
Stivin’s life was at stake. Mayhap her own, too.
“I am neither cold nor heartless,” he said.
Her eyes snapped open to find him frowning at her. “I sincerely doubt that. Since I’ve made your acquaintance, I have been beaten—”
“A pat on the rump,” he interjected.
She glowered at him, raising her voice. “ Beaten, stripped of my clothing, thrown into some hell pit—”
“Ye deserved worse, according to Duncan.”
“Almost fell to my death—”
“Yer own doing.” His eyes narrowed in warning.
She took pleasure in ignoring it. “Degraded into sharing your chamber—”
“Actually, I slept elsewhere.”
He had? Where?
A knowing grin chased the frown from his brows.
He couldn’t read her mind, she assured herself. And if he could, he’d know that those silent questions were idle curiosity, nothing more.
“Stolen from my home and held against my will,” she finished with a triumphant glare.
But Krayne only shrugged. “The land makes us what we are.”
“That’s right,” she snorted. “Shift the blame.”
“I will not argue circles with ye.”
“Of course not. Very well, you talk, and I’ll just agree to everything you say. That’s what you wish, is it not? And what the mighty laird wishes, he gets!” It was unwise to bait him, but her blood was too hot to care. She was looking for a fight. “I’m not one of the devoted servants you surround yourself with.”
“Nay, yer my prisoner. And ye’d do well ta not forget that.”
“Or what?” Amber challenged, her chin raised in defiance.
His expression darkened as he glared her down.
But just when she thought she’d broken through his restraint, Krayne chuckled. “Pull in yer claws, wildcat, fer I’ll not play yer games.”
“Trust me, this is no game.”
“I truly hope ye remember that when the next foolish notion ta escape fills yer head.”
“I’m a prisoner,” she pointed out. “’Tis my duty to escape.”
“Yer duty is ta Stivin.” His gaze turned black, straining at the edges of control. “Or have ye already forgotten yer lover?”
Lover? Her jaw dropped at the preposterous notion.
“Let me remind ye,” Krayne
Similar Books
