Page 35 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
“Children? I never imagined that you could have children,” she murmured, almost to herself.
“If I had they would only be bastards, of course, since I am not married, but they would still depend on me. Is that what is bothering you? Are you saying you are a murderer with a conscience? That you would be loath to rob innocent children of their father?”
He was teasing her, but the tears that sprung in her eyes told him the idea was indeed abhorrent to her.
“I would never want to see a child deprived of their father. I-I know just how painful it is to lose a beloved parent.”
He did not miss the earnestness in her tone. She was genuinely horrified at the idea of being responsible for a child’s heartache. Had she lost her father at a young age herself, leaving her inconsolable? He had the irrepressible urge to reassure her.
“Rest easy. I have no children. That I know of,” he amended in an effort at honesty. “Though perhaps I should lie and claim to have dozens if it would stay your hand.”
There was no answer, but he knew what she would be thinking.
They had been together for nearly a sennight now and she had made no progress in her plans to kill him. Worse, she had let a golden opportunity to dispose of him pass. She was still his prisoner, still at his mercy.
And he was still alive.
12
The girl ate with appetite, sampling what to her must be exotic food with relish. The carp, in particular, seemed to make a deep impression on her. She was licking her lips and humming in appreciation.
An unwelcome pang of discomfort tore through William. He should not derive such pleasure from her company, but he was more intrigued than ever by this girl. What had begun as mere physical attraction had transformed into something else, something problematic—and potentially dangerous. He kept her by his side on the pretext of watching her every move. In doing so, he provided her with the opportunity to strike.
No other would-be murderers, caught red-handed, would have been shown such clemency, that was for sure. He would not have allowed them to sleep next to him every night at his most vulnerable.
It was, all of it, madness.
He should be more cautious, at least wear protective garments in bed. As he had told her, he was not arrogant or foolish enough to dismiss the threat she represented just because she was a woman. Many of his peers might, but not he. He knew women could be just as ruthless as men—he had the Comtesse du Vallon to thank for the valuable lesson.
So why was he being such a fool?
The girl moved a strand of hair from her neck, and his question was answered. He grew hard just watching her tuck the lock behind her ear. This mysterious girl appealed to his senses with unprecedented force.
Just as his groin tightened, she lifted her gaze to him and the force of her stare finished what the sensual gesture had merely started. In that moment, William knew if he never possessed her, he would regret it for the rest of his life. The image of her lying down with bare breasts and flushed cheeks was branded in his mind, the feel of her nipple in his mouth haunted his thoughts and filled his dreams.
And now, he needed more.
He needed to see more of her glorious body, he needed to make her his completely, he needed to kiss more than her breasts. What if he never experienced a night in her arms? Without a doubt he would go mad with frustration. But how would he convince a woman who hated him to allow him make love to her?
Or… Did she hate him? He wasn’t certain.
At times, he had glimpsed what he imagined to be desire in her eyes, but of course that could have been wishful thinking.
Across the table the girl was looking at him with intent, as if she had guessed the direction his thoughts had taken, as if she could see the hardness between his thighs. Either was impossible. William was confident in his ability to keep his features impassive, and the table hid the evidence of his desire. Yet she was staring at him as if she knew what was happening within him, and he was the one looking away. How had he permitted her to gain such power over him?
Over every part of him?
For the best part of ten years, he’d been able to keep a level head where women were concerned. A few had taken hold of his senses, but none had managed to infiltrate his thoughts, his heart, in such a way.
Cwenhild had lured him into her bed, but she’d never taken possession of his soul. This girl, under the unlikely guise ofa would-be murderess, presented him with the most infuriating challenge he had ever faced.
*
William lifted his cup, and as usual Rowena’s gaze was drawn to his hands. Perhaps it was little wonder they fascinated her, considering what they had done to her. Every time she saw them, she was reminded of the explosion they had provoked in her body. His long, elegant fingers had coaxed pleasure out of her in a manner she did not understand.
To her shame, she craved to experience the mind-blowing feeling again, and she could never watch him handling his food without going bright red. What made it all the more disturbing was the knowledge that, had she even hinted at her desire to be touched again, he would immediately comply. Tonight, as they lay in bed, she would only have to look at him and he would know what to do. At the slightest solicitation, he would take her.
She took another mouthful of carp. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her crimson face. He would know what she’d been thinking, as surely as if she had sat on his lap and begged him to make love to her.
