Page 24 of Beyond Dreams

He was maddening. Something rumbled upward from deep in her chest and Holly literally growled aloud at him, fisting her hands again. “I’m not asking you to beg. I’m asking you to be patient, to show a bit of—geez, I don’t know—compassion? Empathy? Understanding?”

With yet another infuriating curl of his lip, he turned his back on her.

Holly remained perfectly still, hoping he would leave soon so that she could breathe normally again.

To her horror, he began to undress.

She stared for a moment, frozen by dread, as he removed the plaid from his shoulders and chest, tossing it onto the chair near the bed.

He hadn’t listened to a friggin’ word she’d said. Time-travel and witches and fake weddings were one thing, but she’d be damned if she allowed herself to be raped.

Truly panicked now, Holly bolted for the door. It did not pull open. The damn beast had bolted the door. Her fingers fumbled with the latch, useless since they shook so badly. And then she screamed when he attacked her from behind, wrapping one arm like a vice around her waist, hauling her nearly off her feet, against his chest. His other hand worked to wrench her fingers from where she clutched frantically at the lock.

“I’ll nae force you, wife,” he barked in her ear. “But I’ll nae spend my wedding night inside my own bedchamber and suffer the consequences—the talk of it—on the morrow.”

Understanding was slow but did eventually come. Duncan’s long fingers were then able to pull hers from the stupid latch as she wilted against him, both relieved and maddened by his statement.

“Oh, my God. My life hangs in the balance, and you’re worried about what your friends are going to say if you don’t screw your wife.”

“How the hell does your life hang in the balance? Dammit, Ceri—”

“Holly,” she insisted hopelessly, slapping her hand against the locked door. “My name is Holly.”

“Another point,” he hissed, his breath fanning hotly across her cheek, “that gives me verra little reason to trust you.”

“Nor I you,” she threw back at him. “Or you I,” she amended, thinking she’d said it backwards the first time.

Duncan straightened and his arm slid away from her middle. But he did not simply release her. He spun her around, and not gently, until she was whirled away from the door and his back was to it. “You’ve done naught but lie since I’ve met you and I, dear wife, I have nae taken you as I’ve every right to do, and you will say to me that trust has eluded you?”

“You’ve not raped me—yet. What a guy,” she chirped before she thought better of it. More, it was an accusation to get his mind off the other part of his own charge, that she’d done nothing but lie to him, which was technically not true but certainly this could be argued...if he actually knew the truth.

“Like as nae, this is nae how you want to start your marriage,” he ground out at her.

Deflated and exhausted and still pretty frightened, she heard the whimper in her own voice when she next spoke. “Duncan, again, I’m just asking for a little time.” And maybe a little more patience than he was capable of exhibiting. “I don’t mean to be difficult, honestly.”

“Aye,” he snapped, “’tis quite obvious, how compliant and agreeable you mean to be.”

Holly clamped her lips, meaning to say no more, to invite no further rage from him. Biting her lip while her chest heaved once again with her distress and as a result of her attempted flight, she watched him warily even as he seemed to care less about her presence. He was disgusted with her, so said the feral expression on his face. Striding to the far side of the bed, where she had held her ground moments ago, he acted as if she weren’t in the room with him and continued to undress, discarding his leather belt and his scary sword before he removed his long tunic, lifting that up and over his head.

Holly’s lips parted, all the better to breathe now, her eyes glued to the man of her dreams. This now, was familiar to her, the shape of him, the sinewy strength of his broad back, the detailed cut of each muscle and hollow, the thickness of his arms and shoulders. His back moved and rippled as he rid himself of his boots and pants, pushing the fabric down and off at his feet. He wasn’t completely naked but had kept on what looked to be a pair of long johns.

Holly didn’t know if she were disappointed or relieved. Honest to God, he was breathtaking. Or whatever was greater than that. Every movement spoke of strength and grace. Holly was mesmerized, so much so that when he turned, and when she should have met his gaze or averted hers completely, she could not. Mesmerized, she could only stare at his front, at the immaculately sculpted chest and impossibly large muscles of his arms.

“Bluidy hell, wife,” he growled. “Dinna be staring as such.”

Mortified, Holly’s gaze flew to his face. She blushed furiously at her blunder and lied ridiculously. “I wasn’t staring.”

He sneered at her and crudely reminded her of her earlier words. “Violating me with your gaze, is what you were doing.”

Holly gasped and spun around. Why, the brute! Her brows knitted sharply when she heard sounds behind her that suggested he had just climbed into bed. Frozen, having no idea what she should do, Holly could only stand there.

After a moment, when he’d apparently gotten comfortable and she still hadn’t moved, she considered this present and most alarming predicament.

A moment later, as if the brute had read her mind, he said on the end of what sounded like a yawn, “And dinna even consider leaving this chamber.”

What a jerk.

With another gruff sigh, Holly debated her own state of dress, stealing a peek behind her to find that he laid on his side, his back to her, only his broad shoulder and dark head available to her gaze above the covers. Deciding fairly quickly since he obviously wasn’t going to force himself on her, but since she would be forced to spend the night in the same bed with him, and because she knew she’d be ten times more comfortable without the constricting bodice, she doffed her wedding gown.

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