Free Fantasy 03 - Double Fantasy by Cheryl Holt

of lust so potent that he was amazed it didn't knock him over.
    "You have tried my patience," he fumed, "beyond what any normal person should have to endure."
    "I've done nothing but what I felt was right, which is to keep both of us from making a terrible mistake."
    At having her describe their pending union as a mistake, he saw red all over again.
    "I am struggling to honor you as I should—when I am not an honorable man." He gripped her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. "I've sworn to myself that I will wait for our wedding night, when you will be my respected and esteemed bride, but I am in such a state that if you continue defying me, I will shed my vow and proceed at once as if you were the lowest sort of harlot. Trust me: You won't enjoy it."
    "You would . .. would .. . ravish me?"
    "To force this marriage? Absolutely." He stepped away from her. "Stop fighting me, Anne. You can't win."
    He strutted out, slamming numerous doors and spinning several keys, sealing her in like a dangerous prisoner, but attired only in her unmentionables.
    He tarried a few seconds, then a few more. As her shock abated, she began hammering with her fists, yelling and cursing him again, but it wouldn't do her any good. She wouldn't be able to escape, but if she somehow managed it, he'd make sure the staff knew not to aid her in her folly.
    He would not fail in what the Prince had ordered, and she would not foil him in his matrimonial plan.
    In the morning, they would be wed, and he would have the chance to fornicate with her as he was burning to attempt. After seeing her, with her hair down and her clothes off, the notion sounded more exciting by the minute.
    He left her to her fury, and he hurried down the stairs, eager to find Jack and have him fetch Sarah Carstairs back to the manor.
     
    Six
    Anne slowly came awake. She was so warm and cozy that she couldn't open her eyes, but she knew she had to rouse herself. There was something important she was supposed to do, but she was too comfortable to remember what it was.
    She sighed and smiled, wanting her drowsy malaise to go on just a while longer.
    Suddenly, she jerked to full consciousness as she recollected that she was locked in Jamieson Merrick's bedchamber without any clothes.
    The man was a demented fiend!
    After he'd stomped off and left her, she'd pounded on the door till her limbs grew tired and her voice raw. Finally, exhausted and disheartened, she'd fallen onto his bed and dozed, but from the sunlight streaming in the window she'd slept all night—when she hadn't intended to.
    She was about to sneak over and try the door again when it occurred to her that she wasn't alone. Someone was stretched out on the mattress behind her. Their
    bodies were spooned together, her back, bottom, and thighs touching where they had no business touching. An arm was lazily draped across her waist, a hand firmly planted on her belly.
    She peered over her shoulder, and as she might have guessed, Jamieson Merrick was snuggled with her, but she had no idea of when he'd returned. She attempted to ease away, but he scowled and dragged her to him, as if—even in slumber—he refused to relinquish the slightest authority over her.
    She was determined to escape, though, and she shifted away, but the second she moved he was alert and grinning as if he'd played a wicked joke.
    She was ready to scold and berate, but he flummoxed her when he murmured, "Good morning, my beautiful Anne."
    "Lord Gladstone."
    "You call me Jamie when you're angry."
    "Then I'm sure I'll be calling you Jamie very soon."
    He chuckled and snuggled nearer.
    "Can I go now?"
    "No."
    She was curious if cajoling would work where arguing never had. "Please?" "No."
    She could have started another quarrel, could have harangued about Ophelia, about his arrogance and conceit, but she was weary of their constant bickering.
    "Have you found my sister? Is she all right?"
    "She's fine. Jack was with her; she never left the house."
    "Don't send