Page 20 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
Feet first, banging hard into the dirt. And before she could use that as leverage, he stepped backward such that she couldn’t get purchase. She was fighting with her torso, twisting and flailing, but she was pinned. And he was so damned strong.
A second later, her bum landed on the ground with a teeth-jarring thump. She twisted with her legs, but they were splayed in front of her, and her skirts were in the way. Only then did he stop.
It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t moving. That she was sitting flat on the ground while he held her pinned from behind. And the more she scrabbled with her legs, the more dirtyand tired she got, whereas he crouched behind her seemingly without a care in the world.
She began to curse him. They weren’t English words, but Romany ones she’d learned long ago. She called him a dog and worse, though she truly didn’t know what “worse” was. Just garbled sounds that she made when she was so spitting mad she couldn’t speak at all. Then to add to her humiliation, tears sprang into her eyes, leaking out the corners, and making tracks down the dust on her face.
“I can sit here all day, Miss Bluebell.”
She quieted, stilling long enough to catch her breath, and then—abruptly—she sprang into life again. She kicked and twisted for all she was worth.
Nothing. He didn’t budge and she only got more tired.
In the end, she stilled once more. Taking a shuddering breath, she came to terms with the truth. He was stronger and a better fighter. He could do whatever he willed with her, and she was terrified—
“What do you want, Miss Bluebell?” he asked. His voice was hoarse in her ear, a low rasp that ratcheted up her fear another degree.
“Let me go!”
“Not until we have a conversation—you and I. An honest one, if you please.”
“I want to be let go!”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I want to speak without lies. Do you know how to do that?”
“Of course I do! I have never lied—”
He choked her. His top forearm slipped up her chest until it pressed against her throat. Not hard enough to hurt, but the message got through.
“I told you. No lies.”
“I wasn’t,” she whispered, tears of frustration burning in her eyes.
“I count half-truths, slight omissions, and even things you wish to be true as lies, Miss Bluebell. And those times when you pretend to be dumb? Those are the worst lies of all. So think again. Have you ever lied?”
She swallowed. Of course she had. She’d told ugly women they were beautiful, fat men they’d lost weight. She’d flattered and cajoled. And she’d hidden her intelligence almost from the very start. Boys had taught her young that they didn’t like to be bested by a girl.
“I’m a poor orphan. I’ve done what I needed to.”
“I’m sure you have,” he said conversationally. “And I don’t damn you for that.” She didn’t believe him. There was condemnation in every word he uttered. “But Miss Bluebell, if we’re to deal with one another, I need the truth. What do you want? Is it this?”
He leaned down, and she felt his teeth at her neck. It wasn’t a bite, per se. More of a slow compression of his teeth, drawing the edges across her skin while her body trembled beneath him. She whimpered, truly terrified, and then he licked where he had bit. His tongue was hot and wet, and she slammed her eyes shut trying to find a way out.
Could she scream before he choked off her breath? Would anyone come in time? She tried to still her racing heart as she gathered her breath to try.
But then he stopped and drew back. “You don’t want that,” he said, obviously startled.
She screamed.
As loud and as long as she could while he released her and stood back. She scrambled to her feet, screaming for all she was worth. And she kept going until her throat went raw, and he stood there looking bemused.
Then she had to draw breath, and in the pause as she pulled air in, she realized he wasn’t fighting her. He was just standing there, confusion all over his face.
She stopped screaming.
He swallowed. “I’m sorry. I thought…I believed…” He shrugged, then gave her a deep bow. “I was mistaken.”
She stood there, shaking and staring, not understanding what had happened. Her hair was in her eyes, dust coated her dress and face, and he wasn’t moving to attack. He wasn’t doing anything but standing there looking as innocuous as a doddering old hound.
