Page 30 of Seducing the Knave

Chapter Eight

Elle’s heart stopped.

She’d never seen such pure, unadulterated menace in a man’s eyes. The gray had become hard as stone. Cold and utterly rigid beneath the sharp furrow of his brows. His jaw muscles bunched with tension and his mouth, which had just moments ago caused fine shivers of sensation to chase along her spine, was now shaped into a forbidding snarl.

She fought the urge to tremble. Perhaps the knife had been a mistake.

It was just a dinner knife, taken from the meal Jasper had sent to her room. She’d thought she might need it on her journey. And then last night, before getting into bed, she’d slipped it into her stocking to keep it near—just in case.

“If ye’re going to pull a blade on a man—in his own blasted bed,” he growled, “ye’d best be prepared to do more than nick him with it.”

Wait a minute...was he angry that she’d almost stabbed him or that she hadn’t?

Elle lifted her chin, doing what she could to appear uncowed even though she was firmly pinned beneath his broad chest and the heavy weight of his—she flickered a glance down—hard, naked thigh.

Her seized heart suddenly leapt back into motion to race wildly with the reminder that he was naked. And on top of her. In a bed.

Panic made her struggle against his hold. Futilely. His fingers wrapped with iron strength around her wrist and his body was unmoving over hers. Her other hand was of no help since it was effectively pinned between them.

With a heavy breath, she stilled to glare up at him.

Despite the obvious fury in his expression and his complete physical dominance, she wasn’t frightened so much as...apprehensive.

His flinty gaze narrowed, stirring the uncertainty inside her.

Rolling more fully atop her, he reached down with his free hand to grasp at her petticoats and flip them up to bare her legs. She tensed and gasped when his large, warm hand smoothed down her outer thigh. Wrapping his hand around her knee, he bent and lifted her leg against his hip so he could continue his sweeping exploration along her calf to her ankle then back up again.

“What are you...? Stop,” she gasped as thrilling sensations ignited beneath his purposeful caress.

“Just checking fer more useless weapons,” he murmured. Then he reached up to pull the knife from her slack grip. Flipping it in his hand to pinch the blade between his fingers, he threw it end over end to lodge into the wall beside the door with a dull thunk.

Frustration welled in her throat. “You’ve no right—”

“It’s as much fer yer protection as me own,” he interrupted. “Ye shouldn’t be carrying weapons ye’ve no idea how to use.”

Hating the condescension in his tone, she retorted, “I know enough to aim the sharp end toward your villainous heart.”

One of his brows lifted. “And how’d that work out fer ye?” He adjusted his position until the weight of his hips forced her thighs to part around him.

She froze, her eyes going wide as heat rushed through her blood and her core erupted with a mad swirl of sensation. “You said—” she began breathlessly, but he cut her off.

“I know damn well what I said.” His smirk held no humor and his tone was angry. “But this ain’t a ravishing either, princess. This is a much-needed dose of reality. Not only was pulling a blasted knife totally pointless, it was bloody stupid.”

“It’s stupid to try to defend myself?”

His voice lowered. “If I’d meant to harm ye, that little poke wouldn’t’ve stopped me. Ye must be prepared to cause damage. Hesitate, and a knife can be turned against ye. Then it’ll be yer blood that’s spilled.” He shook his head. “I’ve never met a woman with a more shite sense of self-preservation.”

Elle stiffened. “You know nothing about me,” she seethed. “Nothing at all.”

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