Free The Stolen Brides 02 -His Forbidden Touch by Shelly Thacker

and
expect everyone to gleefully dance to your tune. You cannot treat
people like puppets. You cannot ask the impossible and then destroy
them when they fail to—”
    He cut himself off abruptly, chagrined that
he had almost given her the answer she had demanded. He was not going to discuss the intimate, painful details of his
past with her.
    Clenching his jaw, he held her gaze, daring
her to press him further. “I left. Now I am back. My reasons are my
own. Have you any other questions?”
    She held his stare, then turned aside and
set her books and mandolin atop the sack he had discarded. “Only
one,” she bit out. “If you hold some sort of grudge against my
father, why did you agree to serve as my escort to Thuringia? Why
risk your life to protect me?”
    “I should think that would be obvious,” he
snapped, his temper making him less than careful in his choice of
words. “You mean a great deal to me, Princess—a great deal of land,
a castle, and coin. I have been promised a generous reward. That is what I am risking my life for.”
    She picked up one of the hats he had tossed
to the ground, brushing snow from the delicate fabric. “Thank you
for explaining,” she said frostily. “So kind of you to make clear
exactly what sort of man you are.”
    He spat a curse. “I would not expect you to
understand. You, who have never had to worry about a place to sleep
for the night or where your next meal is coming from. Your whole
life has been”— he cast a scornful glance at the costly belongings
piled around her—”books of verse and blue silk slippers.”
    She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes still
glittering. “Tell me, Sir Royce, are you this offensive to everyone
you meet, or are your ill manners strictly reserved for
royalty?”
    “I have not been hired for my charming
personality, Princess. I do not have to be pleasant to you. I do
not even have to like you. And I certainly do not have to bow and
scrape like one of your palace lackeys. All I have to do is get you
to Thuringia in one piece and deliver you into the waiting arms of
Prince Daemon.”
    “Aye,” she said slowly. “That is what you
are being paid to do.”
    “Excellent, Princess. I am glad we agree on
one thing.” Turning his back again, he finished tightening the
saddle and securing his own belongings. “Because this is not going
to be a pleasure trip or a summer cruise down the river in your
royal barge. There are people out there”—he jerked his head toward
the distant mountains—“who may want to kill you. I intend to
prevent that from happening. Whether you like it or not,
your father has placed me in charge, for your own safety. And if I
am to protect you, I must insist that you obey my orders. Without
question.”
    “I will try to be … accommodating.”
    It sounded as if the words had been pried
from between her teeth. He had the distinct impression that she
liked him even less than he liked her.
    Which suited him fine, he decided. Let her
despise him. It would be better that way. Safer. He needed barriers between them. A boundary that he would not allow himself
to cross.
    Not even for the sweet temptation of tasting
those ravishing lips.
    “Good.” He glanced up at the sun, high
overhead. “Then gather up whatever you can fit in one of
those bags of yours, and let us be on our way.”

Chapter 4
    T he sun dipped low
behind them, gilding the fields of winter wheat that passed in a
blur as Sir Royce’s stallion carried them swiftly across the plain.
The light struck bright sparks from the lakes that dotted the
countryside and danced over the distant, snowcapped peaks.
    Ciara had removed her fur-lined gloves and
almost wished she could take off her cloak as well. The air here
felt mild, rich with the earthy promise of spring. As they cantered
through the broad, flat lowland that separated Châlons’s western
mountains from those in the east, a steady breeze warmed her cheeks
and mischievously plucked strands from her