Read Online Once a Bride by Shari Anton - Free Book Online Page B

back until she bumped into the wall.
    “You have no more room to retreat, my lady. Give over.”
    She gracefully slid down the wall, her white nightrail puddling around her like a cloud. She sat on the parchment, crossed her arms under her pert breasts. “Begone, villain, or I swear, you shall regret this night’s devilry.”
    Roland inwardly sighed, giving in to the inevitable, already regretting what he must do. “You give me no choice, my lady.”
    “You would not dare touch me. A proper, chivalrous knight would—”
    The challenge proved all the provocation he could stand. He grasped her arms and hauled her up, her attempt to protest lost in a grunt and whoosh of breath when she landed stomach down on his shoulder.
    He placed a steadying hand on the sweetly rounded buttocks pressed against his cheek. His nostrils flared at her scent, his body stirred at the feel of firm flesh beneath his fingers.
    Her fist struck the small of his back, ending an exquisite fantasy of turning his head enough to nuzzle her softness.
    “Put me down, beast!”
    He patted her rump, firmly enough to serve as warning but not hard enough to sting. “You would do well to court my favor right now. I could leave a mark here where no one could see.”
    She went very quiet, very still.
    Roland glanced at the parchment and tongs on the floor. First he’d rid himself of the termagant, then fetch the partially burned parchment.
    Almost reluctant to give up the blessed peace—and to his chagrin, the warmth of her body pressed close even in this untoward position—he turned toward the bed.
    “I am not your enemy, Eloise. Believe me or nay, I will ensure no harm comes to you or your people or the holding in your father’s absence. Your cooperation is not vital, but would go far to make my task easier.”
    She huffed. “Why would I wish to?”
    “Because our goals are the same. We both wish justice done and the holding to prosper.”
    “Except you believe my father is guilty.”
    “Guilty or not, our situation is the same. If you continue to fight me, Eloise, I shall have to take harsh measures with you, and I should hate to do so. Do not force my hand.”
    His hand, he noticed, had moved. Was still moving. Circling her rump, her thigh. Eloise seemed to gentle to the petting, much like a kitten he’d once owned that nipped and scratched until deciding she could trust him not to hurt her. Except Eloise wasn’t a kitten, but a regal lioness with sharper claws and less reason to trust.
    What would she do if he slipped his hand beneath her nightrail, caressed her properly? Could she be tamed to
    his touch, induced to purr? Another intriguing notion he dared not act upon.
    “Pray, put me down.”
    A request, not a demand.
    “If I do, will you stay put? If I must race you across the room for possession of the parchment, I swear I will not be so gentle with you next time.”
    He felt her sigh. Resignation?
    “I concede this skirmish to you, Sir Roland. All I ask is you grant me a boon once you read the message.”
    Roland went cold. A message? From whom? Sir John? By what right did she ask a boon?
    “What might that be?”
    “I truly dislike this awkward position. My head begins to spin.”
    Would she be off balance enough to prevent her from bolting? Perhaps. Besides, he couldn’t stand here all night with Eloise draped over his shoulder, arse end up and completely subject to his whims.
    Whims, he admitted, he had no right to entertain.
    He glanced over to where he’d tossed the washbasin, then eased Eloise down onto the velvet coverlet. She lay before him in all her feminine glory, her eyes wide and slightly glazed, aware of her vulnerability. Sweet mercy, Eloise might as well be naked for all her wetted nightrail hid.
    She took too deep a breath for his comfort, the rise and fall of her breasts mesmerizing, kicking up his pulse.
    If he leaned forward, he might taste the tips of her ripe breasts, indulge in a sumptuous feast—and likely