Knight of Seduction Read Online Free Page B

ridiculous.”
    “You’re a brute and a bully, and I hate you.”
    He peered over at Henry.  “And she wonders why I won’t listen to her.”
    “She has your character pegged, though,” Henry retorted.  “You are a brute and a bully.  It’s sweet how she knows you so well—and so quickly, too.”
    Hugh chuckled, then nodded to the door where the maid was still lurking and eavesdropping.  “My bath has cooled,” he advised Anne.  “Tell her to add more hot water.”
    “Tell her yourself.  May I be excused?”
    “No, you may not.”
    Henry waved to the maid, and she hurried over to where a cauldron was heating over the fire.  She dipped a bucket and poured the steamy contents into the tub, then she curtsied and rushed out.  Henry allowed her to exit, but when Anne tried to follow, he blocked her way.
    “Let me pass,” she demanded.
    “No.” 
    Anne glowered at Hugh.
    “I will not stay in here with the two of you.”
    “You don’t have any choice,” Hugh told her.  He rose and extended his arms.  “Remove my tunic.”
    “I most certainly will not.”
    “Your mother is away from the castle, and I wish to bathe.  In her absence, I expect you to assist me.”
    “I…I…”  She licked her lips, fiddled with her skirt.  “My mother wouldn’t want me to help you.”
    “Where’s the harm?  We’re to wed in the morning.  I have no qualms about you seeing me naked this evening.”
    “Naked!”
    For the briefest instant, she paled, and Hugh worried she might faint, but she was sternly molded.  She straightened, scowling, her annoyance shining through.
    “When my mother returns, she’ll be furious with how you’ve treated me.” 
    “I’m quaking in my boots, Lady Rosamunde.”  He gestured to Henry.  “You may depart.”
    “Shall I guard the door?” Henry asked.
    “There’s no need.  She’s a wee mouse.  If she runs, I can catch her easily enough.”
    “I might surprise you,” she interjected.  “I might run like the wind.”
    “I doubt it,” Hugh smirked.
    “Good evening to you, Lady Rosamunde.”  Henry placed special emphasis on the word Lady .
    “Please,” she beseeched Henry, losing her courage, “don’t leave me alone with him.”
    “Don’t be frightened,” Henry said.  “He doesn’t bite.  Not usually anyway.”
    He strolled out, whistling a jaunty tune, the lyrics of which were too risqué for a maiden’s ears, and Hugh was positive she wouldn’t know them.  She had a sensuality that drew a man’s eye, that made him want to throw her down and rut till dawn, but she was innocent as the day was long.
    He’d bet his life on it.
    He extended his arm again.  “What’s it to be, Lady Rosamunde?  You are the hostess in your mother’s stead.  Will you bathe me or not?”
    “I will not.”
    “Coward.”
    He couldn’t figure out why he was teasing her.  He had no patience for females, and he wasted no effort in wooing them.  He was a handsome, powerful man.
    Women flocked to his side, anxious to entertain him in any fashion he would allow.  Though he was a knight and had spoken many vows, he wasn’t a saint.  He accepted what was offered.
    Why was he bothering with her?  He had no idea.
    Eager to disconcert her, he tugged his tunic over his head and dropped it on the floor.  In the brief moment when fabric had obscured his vision, she’d lunged to the table where he’d deposited his weapons.
    She was holding a dagger, the tip aimed at his belly.
    “If you take one step toward me,” she warned, “I will gut you like a fish.”
    He had to admit that she looked incredibly lethal, as if she wielded knives everyday.  But her hands were trembling, giving lie to her spurt of bravado.
    Before she could realize what he intended, he had her by the waist, the blade tossed in the corner.
    At being disarmed, she was spitting mad, kicking at his shins and clawing with her fingers as she attempted to pry herself from his grip.
    She was too small