Free My Heart Belongs to You (Medieval Romance Trilogy Book 3) by Leigh Bale

his brow, but he didn’t respond.
    “Why do you scowl so much?” she asked.
    His eyes narrowed.
    “Doesn’t it hurt your face?” she pressed.
    He laughed. “Foolish woman.”
    He brushed tangles of her long hair back from her cheeks and she jerked away. His touch wasn’t something she could allow. Already, she felt the attraction between them like heat from a smith’s forge. She must fight it. He was wild and unpredictable, a dangerous man.
    Conscious of his dark eyes locking with hers, she felt swallowed by their intensity. His head lowered to hers and her gaze was drawn to his sculpted mouth so close to her own. He smelled of leather and horses, completely male and desirable. It was several moments before he stepped away.
    “The English will be here soon,” he said. “We cannot wait much longer before we wed. It will be my greatest bargaining tool to use in peace talks with your king.”
    She shook her head. “Are you daft? King William will settle for peace only when you are dead.”
    “He can try to kill me, but he won’t succeed.”
    She shuddered, his words tearing at her soul. So arrogant. So confident. Though she found him more physically desirable than Sir Malcolm, she didn’t want to be forced into marriage ever again.
    When she pulled away from him, he let her go, and she was conscious of him watching as she fled inside the hall.
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    Nicholas stood within the bailey of Sutcliffe Castle and stared after Lady Ysabelle. The breeze blew dust around him, but he didn’t move as she scurried up the stone steps leading to the great hall. He briefly considered following her, but resisted the urge. Perhaps it would be best to give her time to adjust to all that had occurred while he planned his strategy against the English.
    For most of the night, he’d ridden with the scent of her fragrant hair surrounding him. As she dozed in his arms, he’d felt the brush of her soft curls against his face, her body small and delicate in his arms. It had been no trouble to hold her secure. Slight of build, she was fragile and lovely. It would take little effort to hurt her. For this reason, he was even gentler with her. Never would he harm her the way his step father had hurt his mother.
    He shook his head, thinking himself a fool. He mustn’t become enamored by this woman. No illusions disturbed him. Loving Ysabelle when she didn’t want him would only bring him pain.
    Still, he enjoyed the fact that his betrothed was remarkably beautiful. Maston had spoken of her loveliness and also her caring nature. So far, Nicholas had seen ample proof of her stunning looks. But mild mannered?
    Perhaps when she slept.
    He resisted the urge to smile. He had long ago learned not to show pleasure or to disclose his inner thoughts. Emotion was a weakness that could cost him his life.
    Pausing on the steps, she turned to look back at him, her eyes wide, her smooth cheeks flushed with color. Her long braid whipped about her and he longed to undo it and blanket himself in her curls, to press his face against her and inhale her woman’s scent. He stared at her. A vision of loveliness with her bare feet, slim ankles, and porcelain face.
    Turning, she entered the hall, leaving him feeling suddenly bereft.
    “She is beautiful.” Alex smiled down at Nicholas from where he still sat his horse. “I don’t believe I have ever seen a woman with smaller feet.”
    Nicholas didn’t look at his brother. “It would have done some good if you had retrieved her something to wear besides the cloak.”
    “What more did she need?”
    “A gown and some shoes would have been wise.”
    Alex grinned, his brows curved in mock insult. “Be grateful I gave her the cloak and no shoes. Otherwise, you might yet be chasing her across the moors.”
    Nicholas grunted. “No doubt you were thinking with your crotch.”
    Shrugging, Alex looked unperturbed. “I think as other men do, including you. You’re lucky to be blessed with a