Free Prisoner of Desire by Isadora Rose Page A

properly, it was clear that she was even more beautiful than he had thought her to be. Her wide blue eyes were flashing with a defiance that thrilled him to see, and wavy blonde hair fell in curling tresses around her unblemished face; a face currently covered in a deep flush that made his impatient loins twitch in appreciation.
    Unable to resist the compulsion, he allowed his gaze to travel down her body, making no effort to disguise the hunger with which he was staring at her. The stained and tattered gown that she wore did little to disguise her shapely form, precisely the type that appealed most to Alasdair; full, high breasts and a narrow waist that flared out to wide, curvaceous hips and buttocks. Her hands, though, were clasped behind her back, and Alasdair’s smile widened as he slowly approached her, for he thought he knew what she was concealing. ‘Isobel, my lovely,’ he said softly, for there was no need to speak loudly in the still hushed hall. ‘Come to me and allow me to more closely examine my hard-won prize.’
    Rage smouldering in her blue eyes, Isobel did as he commanded, but when they were mere feet apart she suddenly lunged at him, a flash of steel as she thrust her arm out confirming Alasdair’s amused suspicions. He laughed loudly as he caught hold of her wrist before the knife could make any contact with his flesh, twisting it around and easily disarming her. He tossed the weapon to the floor before pulling Isobel into his arms. ‘Ah, my Isobel, the Scottish spirit really is strong in you, wench, isn’t it?’ he murmured, his cock already hard and painful as she writhed against him in her futile efforts to break free of his strong hold. ‘It is no way to greet the man who will be your husband, Isobel, to do so with the point of a blade!’
    ‘Husband?! I think not, bastard!’ Isobel was evidently not cowed in the slightest by either his words or his presence. Tossing her head proudly, she scowled up at him, then froze as one of his hands slipped down to firmly caress her buttocks and pull her more tightly up against him as a low growl of desire escaped his lips.
    ‘My Isobel, you will be mine, however much you protest against it.’ Alasdair’s tongue darted out across his lips as he held her against his chest, so closely that he could feel the racing of her heart. ‘You are beautiful, lass, and I have been told many times that I am a handsome man – I can give you a great deal of pleasure, and I would rather do so with your full acceptance. However, should you continue to disobey me...’ his voice trailed off as his eyes darkened ominously, and Isobel shuddered deeply.
    ‘What then?’ she whispered, her voice so quiet that he had to strain to hear her.
    ‘Why, I shall simply have you regardless, my lovely, and all your women will be the ones to pay the price for your misbehaviour. You see before you how many men I have brought with me, Isobel; their tempers are sorely strained after the long battle you put them through, and I know how they would like to relieve themselves.’ Alasdair’s voice was ominously calm, for he kept it deliberately curt and clipped; knowing as he did that speaking so could be far more terrifying than bellowed rage. ‘It is your choice, and it is a very simple one – submit to me now, or I will take you anyway and they will suffer alongside you.’
    Isobel stared up at him, painfully aware that she was now helpless to stop him from doing exactly as he wished with her – and Alasdair was making it very apparent what it was that he wanted. A low shiver rippled through her body as he steadily met her nervous stare, awaiting her answer to his proposal, but her scowl faded away, her lips parting uncertainly instead. Though she detested herself for acknowledging it, even though it was only to herself, Alasdair spoke the truth; he was a handsome man. He was a tall, broad man, and he was very clearly in his prime – even through the clothes that covered him,