Free Sweet Surrender by Cheryl Holt Page A

nicely and you told me you’d remain at the Abbey, but you’re a liar."
    "I’ve never lied in my life until I met you."
    "What is it you don’t like about me?"
    "You mean besides your rude manner, low morals, and ghastly character?"
    "Yes, besides all that."
    "Trust me, that’s plenty."
    He smirked.  "I am so humored by you."
    "I can’t imagine why."
    "Maybe because you’re so ridiculously absurd."
    "I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much."
    "No, you’re absurd, so I’ll have to handle you more severely."
    "Will you whip me?  Lock me in a closet?  What?"
    "I will simply ensure that you obey."
    "Obey!" she sputtered.  "I am neither your servant nor your slave.  You’re in no position to expect subservience."
    "Yes, I am, and you’ve proved yourself to be thoroughly unreliable."
    "I’m the most reliable person on earth when I’m dealing with someone worthy of constancy."
    "Extreme measures are warranted."
    "Extreme…measures?  What are you babbling on about?"
    "You won’t stay when you promised.  You can’t swear and keep to your vow.  What is left to guarantee the conduct I require?"
    "Why don’t you ponder your dilemma over the next forty years of your life—forty years where you’ll never see me again?"
    He bent down, his lips a hairsbreadth from her own.  Her eyes widened with surprise and a touch of alarm, and he was thrilled to note that he’d rendered her speechless.  Was that all it took to make her quit talking?
    They shared another poignant moment, similar to the one that had festered the previous afternoon.  He was drawn to her, attuned and connected, when he’d never met a female with whom he wanted less of a bond. 
    "I ought to kiss you," he blurted out.
    "Kiss me!"
    "It would serve you right."
    "If you even think about it, I’ll find you later and kill you in your sleep."
    The threat was so inappropriately boastful that he laughed and laughed.  The crazed woman didn’t understand the concepts of size or power, but he would teach them to her.
    "Have you ever been kissed, Grace?"
    "No," she snorted.  "I’d slay any fool who dared."
    "So that’s your problem," he mused.  "You’ve never had a man in your bed, which explains your foul mood.  Perhaps if you’d been tumbled occasionally, you wouldn’t be such a shrew."
    "And perhaps if you weren’t such a horse’s ass, I wouldn’t be considering how I’d like to stab you between your third and fourth rib.
    She’d had enough of his harassment, and she started to struggle in earnest, but her wrestling lit a fire to his manly instincts.  Her breasts were crushed to his chest, his phallus placed directly where it had no business being. 
    Suddenly, it dawned on him that—if he wasn’t careful—he might do things he shouldn’t and damn the consequences.  A warning bell sounded in his head, and he eased away.  Before she realized his dastardly plan, he pulled out a piece of rope and tied their wrists together. 
    Earlier, he’d retrieved it from the barn.  He couldn’t figure out why he’d gotten it, but insane urges were driving him.  He was determined to have her close and to know where she was at all times.  She wouldn’t be able to move two feet without his being aware.
    "What have you done?" she gasped.
    "I’ve purchased an insurance policy."
    "Insurance!  You’re keeping me here against my will."
    "Yes."
    "By force."
    "Yes."
    "You make no bones about it."
    "No."
    "You have no shame."
    "Not an ounce."
    "I repeat:  I hate you."
    "Yes, yes, so I’ve heard."
    He tugged on the rope, drawing her up so she could slide to her feet.
    "Let’s get you something to eat," he said.
    "I’d rather starve."
    "I won’t let you.  From this moment on, you’ll be absolutely fine.  I insist on it."
    "Oaf!  Lout!"
    "Aren’t I, though?"
    He walked to the hall, and she had no choice but to follow.
    DC
     
    "Is that seat taken?"
    Eleanor smiled at Duncan Dane and waved to the spot next to him on the bench.
    "No," he