Page 43 of Midnight Shadow

Or was it that she wanted him to kiss her? Because that’s what he was going to do. His fingers pressed into her soft shoulders and drew her closer to him. Was that a gasp from those parted lips as she came up against his chest?

Terran stared down into her eyes. Then his own gaze traveled over her features inch by inch. Her lashes were long and dark, closed partly over those liquid blue eyes. Her nose was pert and delicate, her skin flawless and creamy. He feathered his fingertips over her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft, everything he’d imagined.

Her lips captured his gaze. Full and ripe.

Terran lowered his head, moving his lips closer to hers. “It will do no good for you to fight,” he murmured. He’d come here to compromise her and had expected some resistance. He hadn’t expected her to be so... willing.

His lips touched hers softly, caressing them with feather light strokes.

She wasn’t fighting. She wasn’t pushing him away. She was simply standing, unmoving, in his hold. She wanted him to kiss her. The thought sent waves of desire crashing over him.

He pressed his lips against hers, pulling her firmly to him. She was so soft against his hard body. He moved his hand down her shoulder to cup her full breast. She gasped slightly, arching against his hand. God’s blood! he thought as desire flared through him. She wants me to touch her!

Where had she been? The thought came unbidden, and he reared back suddenly. A rendezvous. She’d been out with a lover. It was the only reason she would have been out so late at night, the only reason she’d let him touch her. Warmed by the caress of another man. Of course. It all made sense now.

Her partly closed eyes opened wider as the moment was lost. She jerked as if to flee his embrace, but Terran held her tightly.

Obviously her lover had left her unsatisfied. “It’s too late for escape,” Terran growled, fiercely angry. He stepped forward, using his body to push her back onto the bed. The impetus toppled him toward her, but he caught himself on his arms before landing hard on top of her and hurting her. “I will not have my wife running around at midnight like the village harlot.”

She pushed against his chest. “I am not your wife,” she ground out.

He’d fought for everything worthwhile in his life, his reputation, his skill as a warrior. He would fight for Bria. Even tainted, she was his. He seized her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head. With his other hand, he reached around to undo the hooks that fastened her dress.

“Don’t,” she snarled and twisted, trying to break his hold.

But his hold was tight and unrelenting. No wife of his would dare to cuckold him. When he couldn’t unfasten the hooks, his rage and frustration mounted. He pulled fiercely at the fabric, and it ripped across her stomach.

“Stop it!” she screamed.

His lips curled as he gazed down at her torn dress; the shimmering skin bared to him aroused him more than he cared to admit. He lifted his face to hers and froze, letting the torn fabric slip from his fingers.

It wasn’t her rage that halted his movements; it wasn’t her defiance that cooled his anger. It was the tears glistening in her large eyes.

“Stop it,” she whispered through trembling lips.

What am I doing? Terran thought. When Kenric had suggested compromising her, he’d said Bria was just a woman and no woman could stand against Terran’s charm. Terran’s vanity had believed him. He thought she might fight at first, but he believed ultimately she’d enjoy his touch.

The desperate pleas from her lips were not those of a woman enjoying his touch.

The idea of forcing Bria to his will, of forcing any woman, was repulsive. What he’d been about to do to save his castle and his lands sickened him. He rolled off of her and shoved her away from him.

“I’m sorry, Lady Bria,” he murmured. “Betrothed or not, I have no right to treat you like that.”

He looked up at her, but she was hidden in the shadows. Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing the bed and part of the floor in light.

Terran tried to see her face, but couldn’t. He saw the bottom of her brown velvet skirt near the floor, but that was all. He stood and moved to the foot of the bed.

He would leave come sunrise. He bowed slightly, planning to tell her so, but something caught his eye. A piece of black cloth was lying in the moonlight not far from the bed.

Had he ripped her dress that much? No, Terran remembered, she was wearing brown. It must have been from another dress.

Terran bent to retrieve the cloth. She stepped forward so quickly he almost didn’t reach it first. His hand closed over it and he straightened. When his eyes alighted on her, he noticed the strange coloring of her face. At first, he attributed it to the moonlight. But there was such utter dread and fear in her eyes it caused him to glance down at the black cloth. Was this the source of her terror?

His finger was sticking through what could have been a tear in the black fabric. Fabric as dark as the night. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right. He lifted the piece of fabric and held it before him.

Two eyeholes stared back at him. It was a mask.

The same kind of mask his enemy the Midnight Shadow wore.