Free The Tempest by Charlotte Hawkins Page A

with your disgusting bit of rutting, I hope she curses you with a pox!”
    With that she slammed the door, the sight of him too much to bear for another moment.
     
    *****
     
    If it weren’t for the pain in his foot, he would have followed her. Sitting there, staring into the fire, his mouth curled wickedly as he imagined cornering her in some way, blocking any exit. Approaching her slowly, seeing her anxiety slowly changing to longing and desire. Then he would lean in, his hands at either side of her head, preventing escape. But by now, she wouldn’t want to get away. She would look up at him, those brilliant dark eyes of hers shining with passion. Then he would claim her with a deep kiss, savoring the taste of her.
    Lord! The woman was utterly bewitching, and the deliciously painful ache between his legs seemed to confirm it. She might have been a low-born peasant, but he couldn’t recall ever wanting a woman so badly. And not a woman who feared him, or despised him…as Marian had.
    Why hadn’t he ever listened to that small warning voice, the one warning him of her duplicity? He’d always been suspicious of her actions. And yet, all she had ever needed to do was to smile at him, to reach out her hand to him the slightest touch, and he’d lost all control of his senses.
    But in hindsight, was it really love he’d felt for her? Or had it been nothing more than the thrill of the conquest? He’d relished the thought of possessing a woman that belonged to his enemy. He’d fantasized about taking her to the marriage bed, bringing her to such heights of passion that the image of Locksley would be forever erased from her mind. And he had come so close to attaining his goal.
    Or so he had foolishly believed.
    She’d devoted herself, body and soul, to Robin Hood. Even if he had married her, taken her to himself and made her his own, who would she have seen when she closed her eyes?
    Her image was there in his mind. But suddenly it began to change. Green eyes became almost black. The voluptuous curves became slender, her breasts smaller but no less tempting. Her hair became less black and more brown…lustrous and soft…and he longed to run his fingers through it to know it’s texture. Then there was the one aspect of difference that couldn’t be seen on the surface. The one aspect that kept him from fully merging the image of two women into one.
    Except for her father, Cassia swore loyalty to no one…especially not to Robin of Locksley.
    Good God, it was an exhilarating thought…to imagine having a woman who was nearly his equal. Her station in life was too low to consider her in marriage…at least in the eyes of the law…but she would make a delightful mistress.
    Having her as a mistress would give him all that he craved, without the trappings and expectations of having a wife. Marriage was a permanent binding, most often severed only by death. A mistress was an interim relationship, which he could end whenever he preferred. Although, he couldn’t see himself losing interest in Cassia in any small amount of time. Despite their differences in station, there was much they shared in common. A proud, stubborn nature for one. A shared loathing of certain ideals, for another. Then there was the matter of being alone…a hell of a thing for two people to have in common.
    But there was one point of sharing that was foremost in his mind, and it made his smirk become a full and devilish grin. Folding his hands against his chest, he stretched out his legs and leaned his head back, feeling quite smug as he thought of it.
    She wants me, as much as I want her .
    He knew that look in a woman’s eyes. He’d seen it in the faces of countless women. But Cassia wasn’t some easy piece of flesh to be had. She wanted him, but she wasn’t going to give in easily. Obstinate little minx . It would take some clever plotting, and maybe a bit of time, to bring her around. But what else did he have besides time?

Chapter 8
     
    Over the