Free Samantha James by My Lord Conqueror Page A

brutal and harsh. Yet even as there was nothing soft about the man, there was something soft about his kiss.
    Lean fingers plunged through the tumbled waves of her hair, tilting her face to his. His lips were like a scorching brand against hers. He commanded, aye, even as he demanded. He guided, even as he sought, his lips warm and firm, irresistibly compelling.
    Alana could not help it. All at once she was caught up in the moment, caught up in him .
    Warm breath filled her mouth— his breath. She should have been shocked; indeed, some small part of her was struck dumb by this, her first kiss. Yet indeed, she cared not, for there was a part of her that longed for it to go on and on…
    Time was meaningless. She lost all sense of where she was, of who he was. Over and overagain he kissed her, darkly passionate, impossibly sweet. She could feel the slight roughness of his cheek against her tender skin, yet it was not at all displeasing. His scent swirled all about her, woodsy and oddly pleasant.
    A jolt tore through her as his tongue touched hers; she felt it like a dart of purest flame, and then he was exploring the honeyed interior of her mouth with a breath-stealing thoroughness that pushed all rational thought from her mind.
    There was a strange pounding in her ears—the wayward beat of her heart, she realized vaguely. It was as if she were melting, her limbs like hot wax. Her head began to spin. She could do naught but cling to him weakly.
    The pressure of his arms about her back loosened subtly. Slowly he lifted his mouth from hers. It took an instant before Alana was able to focus clearly. When she did, it was to find him staring down at her.
    His gaze had dropped to her mouth, damp and moist from his kiss. With his thumb he traced the pouting fullness of her lower lip. “And do you detest me now, sweet witch?”
    She turned her face aside. “Aye,” she said quickly. But it was a feeble sound, a token denial, and they both knew it.
    Her eyes slid away. She hated the triumph etched on his dark features. Her response to his kiss had pleased him, pleased him mightily, and she despised herself for her weakness. She shivered, crossing her arms over her breasts;she had completely forgotten her nakedness until now.
    His grip tightened on her shoulders, but only for an instant. So it was that she did not see the frown that lined his brow.
    “You are cold, Saxon. ’Tis time to seek your bed.”
    Cold? Alana was suddenly awash in amazement. How could she be cold, when the heat of shame stained the whole of her body from the inside out?
    She made as if to resume the previous night’s berth near the hearth, but again his voice rapped out sharply. “Nay, Saxon, not there.” She was bodily turned and shoved gently toward his bed.
    Oh, but she longed to screech at him that she would not share his bed. Yet she did not dare, for she had no wish to provoke him further. Her pride was sorely stung already, and she knew it would not end here. Her movements quick and jerky, she pushed back the furs and slid within, her face the color of the dawn.
    Merrick had just tugged his tunic over his head. Tossing his clothing aside, he gave an impatient oath and climbed in beside her, now as naked as she.
    “What nonsense is this, Saxon? I would save you from another night on the cold stone floor. Yet you would act as though I wound your very soul, when in truth I but think of your pleasure.”
    Her fingers clutched the furs to her breast. “Iwill find no pleasure in this bed,” she choked out.
    An odd smile crept across his lips. “Just as you found no pleasure in my kiss?”
    In that instant she hated him, hated him with a scorching passion that blinded her to all caution. “I felt nothing,” she stated heatedly. “Do you hear me, Norman? I felt nothing, for you are nothing!”
    His arrogant smile did not waver. “Were I you, lady, I would be wary, for you tempt me. You tempt me sorely to prove that you lie, which I would do, I’m