Surrender to the Viking. Joanna Fulford
have to omit that and just retire instead.’
Her heart leaped towards her throat. ‘I will not.’
He sighed. ‘Either you can remove your clothes or I will.’
She glared at him. ‘How I hate you!’
He ignored the words as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘If I do it you will likely never be able to wear that gown again, which would be a pity. The colour suits you.’
Her chin lifted. She wanted to defy him but knew that, if she did, it would end in humiliating defeat and a ruined dress. Throwing him a look of detestation she got to her feet and with fumbling fingers began to unfasten her girdle. As it came loose she let it fall to the floor. Then she drew off the shorter overdress. She paused, her eyes meeting his.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Keep going.’
The under-gown followed. Clad only in her shift now she waited, dread vying with fury. Was he going to demand that she strip? Was that to be her punishment for defiance? It occurred to her then that making her strip was likely to be the least of it. She was completely in his power and that wasn’t a comfortable thought. Was he going to hit her? Did he intend to hurt her? Once she had thought he wouldn’t offer violence to a woman, but now certainty was tainted by creeping doubt. She had never felt more vulnerable or more afraid in her life but she wouldn’t have let him know it for a shipload of silver. Her chin lifted.
The grey gaze never left her. ‘The bed awaits.’
Reluctantly she obeyed him, perching gingerly between the cool linen sheets, hugging her knees protectively. For a moment or two he remained quite still. Then he bent and retrieved his cloak, throwing it over his arm. Lara followed the movement in silent bemusement, confusion evident in her face.
He smiled mockingly. ‘Don’t worry. I shan’t rape you, Lara, easy as that would be. I prefer my women to be willing participants. When you tire of your cold, virginal bed and decide to become a real woman let me know. In the meantime sleep alone if you will.’
Speechless, she watched him cross to the door and unbar it. He paused on the threshold.
‘You had best secure this after me. I cannot vouch for what drunken pranksters may attempt later.’
With an effort she found her voice. ‘Then you’re not... You don’t mean to return?’
‘No, I don’t mean to return.’ His smile lost some of its mockery and was replaced by something much like regret. ‘Goodnight, Lara. Sleep well.’
With that he was gone, pulling the door to close behind him.
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