Free Dawn Of Desire by Phoebe Conn

up to a regal height. She knew from experience that she possessed a disconcerting gaze and deliberately turned the full force of its brilliance upon Ula.
    “I had been led to believe that you would be in deep mourning,” Oriana continued with a dismissive sweep of Ula’s bright green gown and flowing black hair, “but obviously I was misinformed.”
    Ula had expected some silly wench Egan had snatched from the roadside, not this defiant flame-haired creature who would be impossible to either control or banish. The shock gave her a moment’s pause, but she quickly recovered.
    “I will grieve for my dear Cadell forever,” she breathed out, “but I will never welcome his son’s whore.”
    “It is now Egan’s home,” Oriana reminded her with a taunting smile, “and you may swiftly find that you are the one who is unwelcome here.”

    “How dare you?” Ula shrieked, and she lunged to claw Oriana with a vicious swipe.
    With her much longer reach, Oriana easily caught Ula’s wrist before the irate woman’s nails grazed her cheek. Then with a sharp twist to her arm, she propelled the venomous widow toward the open doorway and released her with a shove.
    “Do not disturb me ever again,” Oriana ordered darkly, and promptly swung the massive door closed.
    “What a distasteful episode,” she murmured under her breath.
    She brushed her hands as she turned away from the door, and having no intention of cowering in Egan’s chamber, grabbed her bag to choose clothing. Only her comb and the ornate pouch containing her collection of unusual stones tumbled out. Spilling from its container, the new amethyst glowed in the fire’s leaping light, but Oriana was far too enraged to appreciate the stone’s rare beauty.
    That Egan would steal her clothes, and then order his hateful stepmother to fashion a new wardrobe for her was unforgivable. Before she could finish cursing him, however, there was a perfunctory knock at the door and in he strode.
    Seizing the moment, Oriana shook her now empty travel bag at him. “What have you done with my garments?”
    Egan widened his stance and rested his hands on his hips. He had bathed, shaved, and dressed in a fresh tunic and trousers that morning, but the improvement in his appearance failed to extend to his mood. He regarded Oriana’s sleep-creased gown with a scowl.
    “I’ll not repeat what I think of your drab wardrobe, but you needn’t fret that I burned it. Instead, I gave the whole lot to Ula’s seamstresses to cut apart for patterns. That will guarantee a superb fit to their creations.”
    Thoroughly exasperated by the man’s unending arrogance, Oriana chucked the amethyst back into its pouch, then shoved the smaller bag into her travel satchel andflung it upon the bed. Anxious to make him understand how wrong he’d been, she gestured with quick jabs as she began to pace with a long, restless stride.
    “Do you expect me to thank you for disregarding my wishes not once, but twice? I had no desire to share your bed last night, nor to wear whatever clothing Ula’s seamstresses might create. As for Ula, after the wretched scene she just created here, she’ll undoubtedly forbid her seamstresses from sewing a single stitch for me.”
    Caught off guard, Egan took a hesitant step toward her. “Ula has already paid you a visit?”
    Chilled by the memory of their encounter, Oriana grabbed a fur from the bed and draped it around her shoulders. “Only long enough to call me a lazy, stupid slut. I threw her out.”
    Oriana’s glorious curls were a tangled mess and her gown a pleated web of wrinkles. Barefoot, she could not have looked more pitiful, but she still moved with a dancer’s grace, and Egan fought to maintain a deliberate scowl to mask the admiration in his gaze.
    “I did not anticipate the two of you ever becoming friends,” he confessed crossly, “but this is most unfortunate, indeed.” He grabbed the chamber’s single chair, swung it around to face Oriana, and