Knight In My Bed by Sue-Ellen Welfonder Page A

him for the swiftness with which he'd let his own temper get the better of him.
    The wench began inching backward, a slow and cautious retreat, leaving naught but her vacated chair and a lingering trace of her wildflower scent, within an arm's length of where he stood.
    That she feared him, felt the need to flee from him, despite her valiant show of bravery, dealt him a more severe blow than the combined lot of her misguided minions could dare hope to achieve.
    Including the giant.
    Awash with shame at having frightened her, Donall took a step forward but the cold iron clasped around his ankle halted his progress, stopping him as irrevocably as recalling his own words to Ian had capped his rage.
    Careful to keep his voice calm and his mien unthreatening, he repeated his question, "Why, and how do you purport to save me?"
    To his relief, she stopped her backward retreat, but the way her fingers dug into her little dog's fur bespoke her continued nervousness. "Exactly how, I am not yet sure," she said, not quite meeting his eyes. "As for why, 'tis self-preservation. My own and that of every man, woman, and child residing under my roof or within the realm of my responsibility."
    Donall folded his arms. "You fear the wrath of the MacLeans should I be put to death?"
    "Aye," she affirmed, her face still pale. Nigh color-less save the lone freckle gracing the curve of her left cheek.
    And, dame his fool hide, but his fingers itched to reach out and touch it.
    His brows snapped together in a fierce scowl.
    No doubt thinking he meant to lash out at her again, she spun around and hastened to the hearth, her black skirts pooling out behind her, her long braids swaying, their lush tips just brushing her sweetly rounded hips.
    The devil take him, but his fingers itched to take hold of those braids, too. Undo them and revel in the silken mass he knew her unbound tresses would be.
    What he'd do with her hips didn't bear thinking about.
    It was a blessing she kept her back to him, for his frown raged even more fierce now. His blood ran thick and hot even as his fury coursed cold and uncompromising through every inch of him.
    He stared long and hard at her rigid back, her squared shoulders, and the proud tilt of her head. The woman had already proven herself a consummate liar when she'd declared her foul-smelling tonic to be a freckle-banishing remedy.
    And she'd lied to him just now, too.
    Exactly how she meant to save him, she wasn't sure, she'd claimed.
    Ha!
    The lass knew what she was about and then some.
    He knew, too.
    Without a doubt.
    Her intent was glaringly apparent ... it loomed behind him in all its four-postered glory.
    Loomed and waited.
    As he, too, would wait.
    For the first opportunity to free himself and Gavin and put Dunmuir's half-crumbling walls behind him.
    Pompous graybeards, comely mistress, looming bed, and all.
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    The Wench Todey with him.
    With the well-practiced skill of a princeling's pampered harlot, she circled him, her lithe form swaying to some silent music only she heard. 'Round and 'round him she twirled, boldly enticing him with the smooth warmth of her supple curves one moment, only to pull away the next.
    Always circling.
    Ever teasing.
    Rousing.
    And wearing naught but her own creamy skin, the glorious mass of her unbound hair, and the rosy glow of the dying hearth fire.
    She held a length of shimmering silk in her hands and used it in ways that would send him to his knees anon if the didn't soon grant him surcease from her lascivious display.
    Her hips gently rocking, her eyes alight with all manner of licentious promise, she twirled the silk into a rope and slipped its taut length between her legs. For one agonizingly long moment, she held it there, pulled tight against the lush tangle of red-gold curls shielding her womanhood.
    Slowly, torturously slow, she began drawing the rope back and forth in an intimate caress. Her eyes drifted shut, a soft sigh escaped her, and a look of