Prologue #2
He’d never imagined what such an intimate touch could do to him. Heat raked him. Muscles spasmed within him. By sheer will alone he kept her from realizing the extent of the tremors she had sent racing through him. Yet, if she stood any closer…
“You mustn’t prosecute Alistair.”
“Why mustn’t I prosecute him?”
“Because he is young and foolish,” she whispered.
“That’s all?” he asked harshly. “I mustn’t prosecute him? What have I to gain for my magnanimity?”
“I’ve asked you here so that we can discuss it,” she reminded him.
A nasty possibility having dawned on him, he reached behind her, switching wineglasses as he handed one to her and kept one himself.
“I see. We’re making a trade. I give you something, you give me something. A bargain—sealed in wine.”
“Must you be so hateful?”
“Must you be so ridiculously hypocritical? You came half-naked to my room. You want to bargain. Bargain,” he told her, taking a sip of wine.
“Bastard!” she hissed beneath her breath, then realized he heard her. He watched as she quickly lifted her wineglass to her lips, taking a sip.
She was definitely nervous. Her sip became a long swallow. He took her glass and set it down once again with his. If she’d been attempting to drug him, she’d go out before he did, for certain. It was time to get down to basics.
“Bargain, Lady MacGinnis. Just what is it you’ve got to offer?”
“I’ll marry you,” she told him quickly.
He laughed out loud. He could see that he’d offended her. Apparently, her pride overruled her intent, and she raised a hand to strike him. He caught her wrist before the blow could fall, but her words spilled from her furiously.
“David Douglas, how dare you—”
“Shawna MacGinnis, my homes and lands are far richer than yours. I’ve been offered the daughters of counts, earls, dukes, immensely rich merchants, and even the lovely offspring of an Indian chief or two. I will marry for no bargain.”
No matter how tempting you may be, my beauty, he thought, turning from her to start from the stables.
But her anger was not so great that she did not attempt to waylay him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. He stood still, his back still turned to her. “Nay, you cannot leave, David!” she cried softly.
A smile she couldn’t see curved his lips, but he spoke harshly. “You’ve something else to offer?” he demanded, annoyed when he heard his words somewhat slurred. He blinked as it seemed the earth wavered for a moment as well. But then she spoke again, distracting him.
“I—” she began, and he could hear her biting down on her teeth as she fought now to control both her pride and her temper. “I—damn you, I offer whatever it is you might want. It doesn’t have to be marriage. I—I can—surely, you must feel something for me?”
Indeed, he did. And in turning back to her, he found that she was so close she was almost standing on top of him.
There was a clean, floral, haunting scent to her hair, the scent of lilac to her flesh.
Half in anger, half in longing, he set his arms about her, pulling her close.
Letting her know how dangerously she played.
Letting her feel the extent of his arousal. Letting her feel…
Oh god, what was he doing to himself!
Harsh, bitter words formed on his lips. He meant to tell her to guard her own honor more tightly, her cousin was a fool, but a fool he’d not punish before the law.
Yet something goaded him, and he could not give the truth to her so easily. “This does grow more and more intriguing. However, I wouldn’t want to accept anything blindly. Is it your intent, then,” he demanded angrily, “to show me something of what I am being offered?”
“Aye, something!”
“What?” he demanded.
“Something—of what you desire to see!” she exploded, aggravated. She tried to pull free, taut with fury. He shook her once, staring at her hard.
“Let’s be more specific. What?” he repeated icily.
“Something—of me!” she cried furiously.
“Know what you’re doing, girl!”
“I—” she began but broke off. He should have let her go then. Walked away. Left the stables. Dealt with her and her kin come morning.
“Leave me be, Shawna,” he warned her sharply. “Don’t seek to bargain when you’ve not—”
“Wait! I do intend to—to give you everything I’ve offered,” she insisted, yet she gasped again as he jerked her closer, hard against his body.
Her eyes were on his, her lips were parted in surprise at the feel of him, and he found her so tempting that he crushed his mouth down upon hers, his tongue parting her lips.
God, but she was lush, breasts so full, firm against his chest, legs lithe as they pressed against his.
He groaned, just slightly lifting his lips from hers, aware of a dizziness pervading his body, yet making every sensation all the more acute.
He felt…too much.
Yet not enough. Something was wrong. It didn’t matter.
His hunger was too great. The sensations were too strong.
His sex throbbed against the juncture of her thighs.
He looked down at her face to find it pale, her eyes closed.
Her lips remained just slightly parted, inviting his in return.
He threaded his fingers into the lustrous black mane of her hair. Found her mouth again.
He picked her up while he still had strength to do so. He stumbled to the wooden bunk against the wall, falling onto it with her. His head spun, but his body hungered. The smell of fresh hay seemed to fill the room, then the sweet scent of lilac soap and a woman’s flesh.
“Wait…!” she gasped.
Wait? When his heartbeat thundered throughout the length and breadth of his body? When he ached with a longing that seemed to tear into his flesh and his soul? There could be no waiting. It seemed incredible now that he had ever intended merely to hear her out—and leave.
“David?”
He was aware that she whispered his name, that she suddenly sounded confused and uncertain. And in some dim recess of his mind, he remembered that he had switched the glasses, that they had both drunk from a glass filled with wine intended only for him.
Filled with…
So sweet and potent a vintage that it did not matter. Nothing mattered.
No matter what either of them had actually intended.
“Perhaps the bargain is met,” he told her.
Nay, hold back! some sense within him warned.
But he could not.
The momentum of the sensations sweeping into him was overwhelming. The scent and feel and taste of her filled him.
The world became a blur.
Of hunger.
Of feelings so acute.
Of desire so fierce that it had become like a flame, destroying his ability to think.
A sound, he heard a sound, a whisper on the air behind him and then…
Pain!
Shocking pain, striking him so suddenly. Sharp, horrible, excruciating, at the back of his head. Sensation that had been unbearably sweet was now unbearably vicious. Staggering.
Paralyzing.
He thought he saw her. Her eyes, sky blue above his. Her face. Angelic in its beauty.
Then the bitter realization hit him. The MacGinnises never would have confronted him face-to-face. They knew his temper, his sense of honor—and his strength.
Just as they had known his weakness. Shawna.
Oh god, never again.
No, never, for seduction had not been their true intent, he saw with startling clarity. Their true intent had been murder.
Suddenly he realized that the burning pain in his skull had been caused by something other than the blow to his head.
He was surrounded by heat.
And fire.
Oh god, yes. Fire! Flames, shooting all around him. And he couldn’t move, couldn’t twist or turn, he could only feel the bursting agony within his head. He could see nothing except for the shooting red tongues of flame that rose against the blackness.
No, more.
He could see what a fool he had been. And that he had been betrayed. Oh god, yes, with what must be his dying breath, he could see so clearly what a fool he had been and that she…
Aye, she had damned him. To all the fires of hell.
Horses neighed and shrieked. From somewhere in the darkness of a never-ending pit, he heard her, heard her screams, rising, sweeping, tearing from her throat…
Then, despite the flames and the heat, darkness began to encompass him. The void of death would come to claim him before the searing fires of hell and damnation reached out to fire his soul again…
Blackness settled upon him.
And all around him the flames continued to rise, until the crackle of the blaze rose to a roar.
And the fire consumed the night.