Read Online Knight of Love by Catherine LaRoche - Free Book Online Page A

excellent condition. I am thirty-two, in good health, and am prepared to sign over to you a substantial dower and quarterly allowance. Were the situation different, do you not think that your father would consider me a worthy suitor to your hand?”
    â€œYes,” she said, forced to admit it, “I suppose he might. But the situation is not different.” She tugged to free her hands; why must he keep touching her? “It is what it is, rendering this conversation quite pointless!”
    He rolled on, ignoring her protests. “And I hope your bias against me is not so great that you won’t avouch I’m a handsome devil—at least when my head isn’t cracked open and shorn bald.” He cocked an eyebrow and pulled a boyish grin.
    She could only shake her head at him, baffled by the man. “That smile is supposed to charm me, I take it?”
    His grin broadened. “Is it working?”
    â€œNot at all, I’m afraid.” She tried for a nonchalant tone, although in truth she feared his flummery. Perhaps all this chivalrous nonsense was simply his way to manipulate a woman and subject her to his will, as horrid in the end as Kurt’s sick violence.
    â€œFor the sake of argument,” he continued smoothly, pouring her more wine and pushing the box of chocolates her way, “let us imagine that a good man appears at some point in your future with a sincere offer of marriage. Let us further assume that your parents approve of the match as appropriate and that you find the gentleman worthy and appealing. Would you not accept his offer?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know.” Dangerous territory lurked here. Her eyes slid away from his. “Marriage holds little appeal.” His question conjured memories she seemed powerless to banish: Kurt’s visits to her chambers, the crop he often carried, the times he’d force her to strip in the cold room so as to “inspect” his bride. “The duties of the marriage bed hold no appeal.” More memories flashed—his hands coiled in her hair, pushing her to her knees, a knife at her throat, a terrified Franz in the corner. Looking down at her hands shredding the paper lining of the chocolate box, she saw them tremble, felt herself float away from the table, from the tent—she thought she smelled the cloves Kurt chewed for his sour breath.
    Again, strong hands framed her face. Sky-blue eyes brought her back to the tent’s warm glow. He stared at her intently and stroked her cheek. “Do you understand, Liebling, how a man and woman make love? How between husband and wife, there should be no pain or humiliation, only pleasure and love?”
    She drew a shuddering breath and twisted away from his touch. “Lord Becker was right—you are a romantic. And a fool. What nonsense you speak. And quite the male point of view.”
    â€œKurt’s soul is warped, wicked. You know that. It shows in how he abuses his peasants and estates as much as in how he mistreated you.”
    His voice was so gentle, so concerned, it almost undid her. She bit her cheek hard against the sting of tears. He spoke the truth about Kurt, but her skin knew the sick feel of a man’s hands on it. She had no desire to repeat that experience.
    â€œI have an idea,” he said suddenly. “Would you allow me an experiment, Lenora?”
    â€œWhat kind of experiment?” she asked suspiciously.
    â€œOne kiss, as a test.”
    â€œA kiss? Certainly not!” She stood again and backed away from the table. “Why ever would I agree to such? I have no desire to kiss you, Lord Ravensworth.”
    And yet, if she were to be fully truthful, she would have to acknowledge there was something different about this man. Not only his immense size, two of any normal men, packed into that massive breadth of hard-muscled shoulders and torso. But also his demeanor. Certainly not mild-mannered—not with that