Page 82 of Her Dark Seduction
He pulled me to my feet by my broken arm, sending a sharp needle of pain through my bones. Turning me to face him he crushed his lips against mine, pushing my mouth open in a forceful, brutal kiss.
“On the contrary my love—we can work on another heir.”
“You’ll have to kill me first, before I let you touch me.” I struggled in his grasp, but he merely laughed, slipping a hand into my gown and squeezing my breast with his fingers.
“In time, you will learn to enjoy my touch.”
He released me as Guy returned with a length of rope.
“Until later, my love. I trust you’ll be more amiable when I return with your betrothal gift.”
He bowed courteously, pressing his fingers lightly over his heart. Though he smiled, his eyes remained hard.
Guy began to bind my hands. I bit my lip, maintaining the emotionless expression I had worn so effectively at Mortlock. My instincts screamed at me to plead for the life of the man I loved, but my rational mind knew they would show no mercy. De Tourrard would relish my fear as salaciously as his foul cousin had thrived on my revulsion.
When he finished, Guy ran a light finger along my arm, then rubbed his knuckles against the front of my bodice where my breast still throbbed from de Tourrard’s touch.
“I’ll enjoy you yet, wench.”
“I am no wench,” I replied. “De Tourrard would not take kindly to you molesting his betrothed.”
“Twice married, mother to a bastard!” he scoffed. “Do you think my master would object to my sampling the stew which has already been ladled out to so many?”
“He would have your bowels, and you know it,” I snarled. “He wants a son. The mother of that son is worth more to him than a mere stew. Find yourself a whore—if one can stomach the prospect of lying with you.”
He gripped the front of my gown, and his face darkened with a mixture of lust and anger. Before he could do anything de Tourrard’s voice roared from outside.
Guy sneered. “Until later, my lady.”
“You can depend on it,” I challenged, determined not to be cowed. His eyes narrowed, but he left, his fear of de Tourrard overshadowing his lust for me.
The wait for de Tourrard’s return was agonizing, knowing he raided the village searching for the man I loved and would likely burn it to the ground. My son was in danger again. My only hope was that Jack and Lily had heeded my warning and left by the river with Geoffrey. Would Vane be with them?
Vane.
At the mere thought of him my skin tightened as if he were near. I almost expected him to be in the tent with me, knowing how quiet his movements always were. The man guarding me smiled coarsely, exposing a row of rotting teeth, and I closed my eyes.
Lisetta!
My eyes snapped open. I could have sworn I heard his voice.
“My love,” I whispered.
“What is it?” My companion shifted to his feet, his clumsy motion so unlike Vane’s smooth, quiet movements.
“Nothing,” I said. “Stay where you are.”
He came closer. My nostrils twitched at the smell of stale sweat, and I cringed inwardly as he reached out to touch me.
Before I felt his hands on my skin, a shout came from outside. He drew his sword and almost tripped on his way out. Heavy footsteps accompanied voices which faded into the distance, replaced by silence.
Now was my chance. I lifted my hands to my mouth and pulled at the knot with my teeth. It started to work loose but before I could free my hands, he returned, panting.
“What’s happening?” I asked. He shook his head, but I persisted.“I insist upon you telling me if my life is in danger.”
Oh, the irony! I was in more danger in de Tourrard’s care than I could ever be at the hands of whoever, or whatever, had caused the disturbance outside.
“A man was spotted on the edge of the forest. We suspect one of de Beauvane’s men.”
