Virgin Bride by Tamara Leigh Page B

down around her, she simply could take no more accusations—and most especially from this mana man to whom she had given her most precious possession.
    Driven by renewed anger, she was unable to check the reckless impulse to wipe the derision from his face. She raised her arm, and a moment later was amazed at the ease with which she landed her palm to his face. With the exception of William, never before had she struck another.
    "I am but a human being cursed to bear a mark set upon my face—not by the devil, but by God." In her tirade she paid no heed to the spreading red left by her hand, nor the sparkle of fury that leaped to Balmaine's eyes.
    " 'Tis a mark of birth, naught else," she continued.
    "You have nothing to fear from me that you would not fear from another."
    "So the little one has claws, eh?" He made the observation between clenched teeth. " 'Tis as I thought."
    One moment Graeye was upright, face-to-face with this hard, angry man, and the next she-was on her back, that same face above hers as those spectacular orbs bored into her.
    "Had I the time or inclination," he said, "I might be tempted to tame that terrible temper of yours. But as I've neither, you will have to content yourself with this."
    Temper? But she didn't— Graeye had no time to ponder his estimation of her nature before she felt his mouth on hers. The thought to resist never entered her mind.
    When he urged her to open to him, she parted her lips with a sigh and took him inside. Slowly, his tongue began an exploration of the sensitive places within— places he knew better than she.
    Turning away from the insistent voices that urged her to exercise caution, she welcomed the invasion and recklessly wound her arms around him, pressing herself to his hard curves. When has hand slid between them to stroke that place below her belly, she arched against it.
    Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it was over, and she was left to stare up at the man who had so effortlessly disengaged himself from her.
    In the blink of an eye he had turned from passionate lover to cold and distant adversary. How was it he had such control over his emotions when^she had none? Was she too long suppressed?
    "I may have fallen prey to your wiles last eventide," he said, smoothing his hands down his tunic. "But I assure you I have no intention of paying the price you would ask for such an unfortunate tryst. Your scheme has failed, Lady Graeye."
    To gather her wits about her after such a thorough attack upon her traitorous senses was not an easy thing, but the impact of his words made it less difficult than it would otherwise have been. Doing her utmost to put behind what had just occurred, she lifted herself from the bench and stood before him.
    "You err," she said in a terribly small voice that made her wince. Drawing a deep breath, she delivered her next words with more assurance. "There is naught I want from you that you have not already given."
    His eyes narrowed. "And what do you think you have stolen from me?"
    She lifted her chin a notch, refusing to be drawn into a futile argument as to whether she had stolen or been given his caresses.
    "Though you do not believe me," she said, "I tell you true that I did not know who you were until this morn. Twas freedom from the Church I hoped to gain, not a husband—that is what you gave me."
    Nostrils flaring, Balmaine gave a short bark of laughter. "Be assured, Lady Graeye," he said as he adjusted his sword on its belt, "you will return to the abbey. Though you are no longer pure enough to become a nun, there will be a place for you there at the convent. You will go ... even if I have to drag you there myself."
    The convent... She took a step nearer him. " 'Tis not your decision whether—"
    His hand sliced impatiently through the air. "Ultimately, everything that has anything to do with Medland is under my control. You had best accept it and resign yourself to entering the convent."
    Her heart began to hammer against her ribs.