Sword for His Lady by Mary Wine Read Free Book Online Page A

her with eyes that challenged her. He tossed his other gauntlet aside and flexed his fingers. The knuckles popped, sounding too loud, her senses overly aware of every detail. He curled one finger, beckoning her forward.
    â€œCome here and offer me your hospitality.”
    She was tempted to refuse him. The urge to disgrace her mother’s teachings was almost too strong to ignore.
    God’s teeth! The man affected her intensely.
    Which was all the more reason she had to face him with her shoulders squared.
    He was naught but a man, and she knew what was hidden under his clothing.
    â€œSince that is what you wish.”
    He was watching her, the weight of his stare feeling too hot.
    â€œDo you wish me to tell you that I shall enjoy having you touch me?” His voice was deep and coated with male satisfaction.
    She jerked her attention away from the ties that closed his tunic. “Have done with teasing me. I cannot imagine why it amuses you so much. We are strangers.”
    His fingers stroked across her cheek. It was a whisper of a touch, and yet she felt it as though it had been as loud as thunder cracking directly above her head.
    â€œI intend for us to be much more intimate, very soon.”
    â€œI have not agreed to wed you, Baron de Segrave.” Isabel propped her hands on her hips. “You seem to have been in the company of women who are easily impressed with a few smooth words; women who would allow you to touch them without seeking anything from you except compliments. I am not such a woman.”
    He crossed his hands over his chest, which made his biceps look larger. “I know full well you have not agreed that a union between us would be best. Since you have failed to use logic to make the best decision, I am employing other methods of swaying your mind.”
    There was a hard determination flickering in his eyes that horrified her.
    â€œThen I owe you no hospitality, my lord, because you are not maintaining your knightly virtues.”
    He laughed and his features transformed momentarily into something she found quite attractive. His eyes sparkled with his amusement, reminding her of her father and the days when there had been much merriment at Thistle Hill.
    â€œYou have a romantic view of the chivalric code. It reminds me of a new squire.” His smile faded. “One who has yet to endure the harsher side of being a knight in the service of the king.”
    â€œMany things are better when spoken of, than during the time they must be endured. Just as the squire learns the harsh realities of war, the bride discovers the disappointments becoming a wife yields.”
    â€œYou did speak truly.” His tone had hardened. “You were a wife.” It gave her no solace to hear his agreement. She felt devastated. Ramon de Segrave would be far more accustomed to having his every instruction followed because the man was used to commanding an army. He was as solid as the armor he’d been wearing; even now his face was devoid of any hints to his true thoughts. She caught herself staring at him, trying to find any trace of the merriment that had been there so short a time ago.
    There was none.
    She looked back at the ties that laced his tunic closed, to avoid looking at him any longer. In the pit of her belly she felt a growing sense of vulnerability that sickened her. How simple it might be for him to take everything he wanted from her.
    Well, she could choose whether she wanted to allow herself to be frightened of him.
    She refused.
    But still, the man unleashed a weakness in her. One she must never allow him to see.
    The laces slid free easily, leaving his tunic gaping open. She focused on the task before her. Trying to imagine he was one of her father’s friends.
    A very ancient one, with rotten teeth and stinking feet.
    â€œYou will have to sit on the stool so I may remove your tunic.”
    He grunted and a moment later he pulled the garment over his head with one