The High Sheriff of Huntingdon (22 page)

The
touch
of
his hand
a
g
a
i
n
s
t
her neck
made
her flinch.
Slowly,
he began to unfasten
the neck
bindings
of her
habit, his
golden
eyes
impaling
hers, and
she
could f
e
e
l
the
s
u
d
de
n
,
terrified
po
u
n
d
i
n
g of her heart.

“I’ve
n
e
v
e
r
been interested
in
t
a
k
i
n
g
virgins,”
he
said in
a dreamy,
almost
abstracted
voice as the overdress
came apart
beneath his
d
e
ft
hand,
exposing
the white column of
her
neck, the
pale
skin
of her breasts. “But
in
your case
it
might
prove
entertaining.”
And he
put his
mouth against
her
neck,
tasting the
pulse that
beat
wildly
there,
t
e
e
t
h sharp against the tender
skin.
The heavy
white
overdress
fell to
the
floor at the
i
r
feet,
leav
ing her
c
l
ad
only
in
h
e
r
light
linen
chemise.

She shivered,
both
hot and
cold. She
didn’t dare
move,
afraid
that if
sh
e
did, it
would
bring
her body
closer to
his. His
other hand
slid
up the thin material, moving b
etween
h
e
r
small
breasts,
pressing
against
her
heart. She
c
o
ul
d
feel the
outline
of his
h
a
n
d
burning
against
h
e
r
flesh as
her
heart
clamored for something
she
couldn’
t
begin
to
understand.

He
lifted
his
head,
looking
down into
her
bewildered
f
a
c
e
with cool satisfaction.
“Your
heart is pounding,
bride. Is
it
because
you’re frightened? Or is
there
some other reason why
y
ou
r pulse
is
racing?”

She
t
ri
e
d to shake
her
head, to deny
the evidence of
her body,
but his
mouth
caught
hers, silencing
her ar
gument.
He
kissed
h
e
r
, deep
and full
and hard,
allowing no
escape.
Indeed,
s
he wasn’t
sure she
wanted to
escape.
Her
arms
came up
of their
o
w
n
accord,
around
his waist,
and
she
held
on, suddenly
afraid
she might
faint. He
was
overwhelming,
devouring,
taking
her
mouth
with a fierce
hunger
that
stirred an answering,
slumbering fire within her.
She
was
no
longer
able
to
think.
Even if her body
w
a
s
still
within
the tower
room, trapped
against the strong,
powerful body
of her
stranger
husband,
her
mind had taken
that flying
leap
out onto
the battlements. She
made
a
helpless,
longing li
tt
l
e sound,
half of panic, half of desire,
and when
he lifted
his
head
this
time
there
was no
disguising
the
triumph in his
amber eyes.

No
denying
the
s
m
u
g
sound of
his
laughter,
either,
as
he
released her,
moving ba
c
k
across
the
room
and untying
the
l
a
c
e
s
of
his
shirt. “Get
on the
bed,” he
ordered
casually. “This won’t
take long.”

The haze of confusion vanished
as abruptly
as
if
someone
on
e
had thrown
a
bucket
of
cold water over
her. She
leaned back
a
g
a
i
ns
t
the
stone
wall, staring
at
him,
her
breasts rising
and
falling
with
a
sudden
burst
of rage.
He glanced over
his shoulder,
clearly impatient, and his cynical,
d
ar
k b
eauty made
him
look like
the
son
of Lucifer
h
i
ms
e
l
f
.
“What
are
you waiting
for?”
h
e
demanded in
a bored voice. “Take
off
the rest
of your
clothes
and spread your
legs.”