Free Rexanne Becnel by My Gallant Enemy Page B

But that success tasted bitter now as she recognized the light in his eyes for what it was. He was still the victor in this battle of wills, for now he would have the saucy maiden who had caught his fancy right where he wanted her: in his bed.
    It was with a grim expression that she mounted the three steps and made her way to the high-backed chair reserved for her. Sir Corbett was nothing but gallant as he saw her seated, but she knew he mocked her with every gesture. When he resettled himself beside her, she was quite aware of the dangerous glitter in his eyes.
    “So we meet again,” he whispered for her ears only. “And so soon. I’d thought you would be more difficult to find.”
    When she did not answer but only stared at the salt bowl on the table before her, he leaned a little closer. “I cannot tell you how much I anticipate our wedding.”
    “You did not anticipate it so readily before!” she snapped as she turned to face his baiting.
    “Ah, but I had no inkling how delightful Lord Barton’s eldest daughter was.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking grin.
    “I promise you will not find marriage to me to be delightful,” Lilliane hissed. She was mindful of the curious gazes upon them, and she was hard-pressed to keep her expression civil and her tone low. But oh, how she wished to put him in his place!
    “You will soon be brought to heel,” he murmured. Then before she could prevent it, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. The kiss he pressed upon it was fleeting, light, and not entirely unpleasant. But when she tried to pull her hand free, he tightened his grasp and turned her hand over. The next kiss was not as fleeting nor as light. This time he pressed his warm lips against the tender flesh of her wrist. Her pulse jumped in shock, but that only seemed to encourage him. In a bold move he let his tongue flick over her suddenly heated skin. As he sought to move the kiss to her sensitive palm, she gasped in true alarm. His touch seemed to burn her flesh and her nerves tingled in reaction. Instinctively she curled her hand into a ball, and this time she succeeded in freeing it from his warm hold.
    But she was not reassured by her meager success. Sir Corbett seemed, if anything, encouraged by her resistance. His face was relaxed in an irreverent grin and his eyes were alight with some heated emotion that she was sure boded ill for her.
    She was growing less and less assured of her ability to send this barbarian on his way, but she knew more than ever that she must. Whatever it took, she vowed she would do, and yet, beyond tossing insults at him, she had no realistic plan. Still, she was preparing to do just that when her father leaned around Sir Corbett, a huge smile on his face.
    “I knew the two of you would suit,” he said with great satisfaction. “Why, ’tis clear as could be that your union will settle the trouble in this valley once and for all. With such a peace only prosperity can result.”
    Sir Corbett did not respond to Lord Barton. Indeed, it seemed that the reference to the ill-feeling between Orrick and Colchester had sobered him, for his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. With a motion that she suspected came of long habit, he rubbed the scar that split his brow. Unable to help herself, Lilliane followed the movement of his hand with fascination.
    She had been prepared to denounce him to her father, but all at once she stopped. No words quite came to mind. Besides, she reasoned, it would not do to argue with her father in the company of so many guests. As much as it galled her, she knew she must save her angry accusations for a more private moment. Then she would not hesitate to tell her father of this heathen’s lack of manners and his crude approach to her in his chamber.
    But as if he read her very thoughts, Sir Corbett leaned back in his chair and turned a carefully bland face to his future father-in-law. “I don’t think I thanked you properly for the