Читать книгу Conquering Knight, Captive Lady - Anne O'Brien, Anne O'Brien - Страница 2

‘I say it is mine. As does this.’ Drawing his sword with ruthless deliberation, he raised it, the tip pointed at the very centre of her breast, although he did not allow it to quite rest there.

A feral smile slashed a white gash in the dark, unshaven face, but failed to warm that fierce gaze. ‘Might is right, lady. And as of this moment, with this sword in my hand, I hold the power here. You do not.’

Rosamund froze on the spot, the implied threat too real to be discounted.

Suddenly, without warning, the point of the sword fell. Thank God! But Rosamund’s relief was short-lived when the knight took a long stride forward to close the space between them. Before she could retreat, she found herself caught within his arm, tightly banding around her waist. Dragged hard against him almost off her feet, breast to breast, thigh against thigh.

If she had been speechless before, now she found herself unable to think, to marshal any thoughts at all. It was all sensation, all awareness of the power of his body, the heat of him, as she was held plastered against him. To see those cold grey eyes, gold-flecked, looking down into hers with what she could only interpret as hatred.

What could she hope for at the hands of this man? For the first time in her life Rosamund de Longspey feared for her safety and her honour.