Samantha James by My Cherished Enemy

caught her in last night with her lover. Was this naught but a game to her?
    Slowly he turned her around. His fingers fell away from her nape and slid to her shoulders. God, she was lovely! Her features were dainty and fine, her lips the color of crushed roses. Wide green eyes the color of spring leaves gazed back at him, framed by thick sooty lashes. Desire cut through him, a swift stab of fire.
    There had been other women since he'd learned of Elaine's death. Nameless, faceless women who expected nothing of him. Yet he knew instinctively that if he were to take Kathryn, he would not soon forget her. Her exquisite face would be burned into his memory for a long time to come. Nay, there had been no one like this...
    Not since Elaine.
    Pain ripped through him, like fire in his soul. He did not understand this gut-twisting desire, for Kathryn was willful and proud where Elaine had been sweet and loving. Kathryn was aloof and stubborn where Elaine was warm and eager to please. And her hair was like the wings of a raven where Elaine had been as fair as a gossamer moonbeam...
    Savagely he wrenched his mind from thoughts of his beloved wife. He was here to avenge her death. Yet here was this scheming temptress who sought to seduce him!
    But that was not right. Kathryn was here, yes, but in truth she wanted no part of him. No, it was neither passion nor desire which brought her to him this night.
    It was selfishness and greed, pure and simple. She would give of herself. . . thinking only of herself.
    But she possessed a dark bewitching beauty, a beauty that lured and enticed him to her.
    And he almost hated her for it.
    Still he wanted her.
    But he'd be damned if he'd dance to her tune. Yet he knew that he would have her, when the time was right, when the time was of his own choosing.
    Kathryn was suddenly trembling. His eyes were like glittering torches of silver, burning through her, inside her. Shaken to the core, she tried to step back but the hand on her shoulder tightened just enough to remind her she wasn't free. Her lashes fell to shut away the sight but hard fingers captured her chin and brought her gaze to his once more.
    His lips twisted. Did he smile? Or did he leer?
    She stared at him with eyes both pleading and accusing. The air around them was suddenly seething with an unbearable tension.
    He was so close. Far too close. She felt his size with all that she possessed. She could feel the heat of his body, the warm rush of his breath on her cheek. He frightened her, not as he had last eve, but in a way that was terrifying and alien to her.
    His voice was strangely thick. "You say you would do anything for Ashbury. I find I am most anxious, Kathryn, to test the truth of your claim."
    He caught her against him. His head swooped down. His mouth claimed hers with a suddenness that tore the breath from her. Snatching the gauzy wimple from her head he tossed it aside. Lean fingers plunged into the silk of her hair, bringing it tumbling down over his hands. His kiss was raw and hungry and greedy, filled with the thunder of emotions gone wild and rampant.
    He pulled her full and tight against him, imprinting the feel of his body against the softness of hers. In some dark and distant corner of his mind, he registered the sweetness of her lips, the slender suppleness of her body.
    But Guy was driven by the sudden fury that still claimed him. He wanted her to remember him, to know that he was not a man she could bend and twist to her whim and will. He touched her as if he owned her, acquainting himself with the ripeness of her breast, the slim fullness of her hips.
    At last he pushed her away. She trembled still, her lips were damp and swollen. For just an instant, Guy thought he glimpsed a hint of hurt vulnerability in the wide depths of her eyes. . .
    Yet he knew it could not be so, and the thought served to harden his heart. He turned his back on her and moved to the table, reaching once more for his goblet, willing away the