“You need to stay away from him.”
“Don’t try and tell me what to do. I answer to no man.”
He lifted her up higher so they were eye to eye. “You’ll do as I say.”
The look on her face. The smell of desire battering his senses. The fullness of her lips. None of that moved him. It was what she said next that did the most damage.
“Make me.”
This couldn’t have been what Morfyd meant. She must have meant something else. Something less . . . dangerous. Or, at the very least, less stupid.
But Annwyl challenged him. Not with a sword or a mace. Those she could handle. She challenged him. Had she lost her mind? Had she finally become as mad as her brother?
She stared into those beautiful dark eyes, one of them almost blocked by the hair that continually fell across it, and realized that for once she might be in over her head. Her feet weren’t even on solid ground. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a babe. And, even worse, she still didn’t know the man’s name.
By the gods, woman. What have you done?
But she wouldn’t back down now. She had her pride to think about. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
He leaned in close to her. His mouth brushing against her cheek. His hot breath tickling the inside of her ear.
“A challenge? Woman, are you trying to kill me?”
Annwyl frowned in confusion. What was he talking about?
“Do you speak of the dragon? He would not harm you.”
He ran his tongue along her jaw. “You think you control the dragon, do you?”
Annwyl had to force herself to focus. His tongue against her skin made her crave more. More of his touch. More of him. “He’s not mine to control.” Annwyl bit back a moan when he pinned her against the tree. His body, hard and tight against hers, the only thing holding her up.
“Then what makes you think . . .” He kissed her collarbone. “You can stop him . . .” He kissed her neck. “From harming me?” He nipped her earlobe.
“A creature he may be, knight, but an honorable one. I’d trust my life with him before any human.”
His hands stopped moving. His body became still. His lips rested gently against her ear. Had she insulted him? She didn’t want him to stop, but she would never beg him either. So she waited.
“You care for a dragon?”
“I care for this dragon, knight. He is my friend.”
“And I?”
“You? I have no idea. But I wouldn’t exactly call us friends.”
He released her, letting her drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Then why are you here with me now, Annwyl?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you. I just said I wasn’t sure if I care for you.”
He stepped back and stared at her long and hard. “Honest girl,” he finally managed.
“My family can be called a lot of things, Lord Knight, but liars aren’t one of them.”
“Fair enough.”
Annwyl fought to understand the confusing man. She sensed he wanted something from her, but she had no idea what. And her frustration was too great to try and figure it out. With an aggravated sigh, she pushed past him.
“We’re not done.”
She stopped in midstride, annoyed by his tone. Annoyed by him. “We’re not?” She faced him, arms crossed in front of her chest.
“No. I’m still waiting.” He walked toward her, and she felt like a hunted doe in the woods.
“Waiting? For what?”
“For your promise to me.” He stepped in front of her and what little light the two suns poured into the dragon’s heavily wooded glen was completely blocked out by the man’s huge body. She now stood in shadow.
“Promise?”
“Your promise to stay away from Gwenvael.”
Now she really was annoyed. She could care less about Gwenvael. A mischievous little troublemaker that one. But she also understood how brothers could make each other insane. “I do not intend to make such a promise.” She could see his jaw tighten and she had the sudden desire to be wicked. Very wicked. “Truth be told, I just can’t stop thinking about the man. Tell me.” She cocked her head to the side as she looked up at the knight’s dark handsome face. “Does he already have a woman?”
“You test me, wench.”
“And you push me. I strongly suggest you not.”
“Or you’ll what?”
She gave him the same smile she gave an enemy soldier in battle. She didn’t practice it, but she knew it when she gave it. Men blanched at this expression. Most ran. All died. Her knight didn’t even flinch.
“Or I’ll make your brother a very happy man. He seems more than willing.”
With a feral growl, he grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back. He pulled her close and she felt the intense heat from his body. The anger. And the lust. “You play where you should not, Lady Annwyl.”
She could have backed off. She probably should have. But Annwyl had always been reckless. Foolish. And this man . . . this man brought out something base and primal in her. Something that she couldn’t control.
“Only one man ruled me. Now his bones lay rotting in the ground. And since his death I answer to no man. And especially not to you.”
The knight gave a painful groan, just before his lips slammed against hers. And for Annwyl there would be no going back.
Fearghus wanted to be stronger than this. He wanted to hand her sword to her and begin their daily training session. Instead he ripped her swords from her back and threw them across the glen floor.