Beauty's Curse by Traci E. Hall Page B

released her.
    Galiana was sweet innocence, the exact opposite of the women who had raised him, in more ways than one, at court. He felt the pulse in her neck jump as her body reacted to his, and yet she remained still instead of giving in to virginal nerves. Intriguing.
    â€œThe first rule at court, my lady, is to never reveal your strategy. Keep your moves close to your”—her breath quickened—“breast. Else your enemy will pounce.”
    â€œI have no enemies.” She lowered her voice to a sensuous whisper that had Rourke longing for the evening ahead. They’d be married, and he’d make sure no other man would take what belonged to him. Fair or no, the lady was a prize. He could learn her body with his fingertips. Who needed eyes in the dark?
    â€œExcept for you,” she added softly.
    â€œWe needn’t be at war, my lady,” Rourke promised.
    Galiana slowly pulled away from him, and he immediately missed her heat.
    â€œWe already are.”
    He heard the low jingles of the chains girdled around her waist, and he wondered what she wore. A bland tunic of semi-fine linen, in a demure brown or gray … His body tensed with need, and he didn’t know if the lady he lusted after was fat or thin or plain or pretty. What’s more, for the first time in his life—it didn’t matter.
    She was compassionate, brave, and adventurous. Reared to be a lady, but her nature cried out for more than the confines of sedate womanhood. He understood too well what it was like to be trapped by circumstances of birth.
    â€œI don’t know who you are,” she told him.
    He could be anybody. Whoever she wanted him to be. “It’s complicated.”
    â€œComplicated.” Her laughter seemed self-directed, and Rourke wondered why. “My parents will be back by the end of February, at the latest. We can announce the engagement then.”
    â€œNay,” Rourke tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. “We’ll have the priest marry us tonight.”
    Galiana made a strangled sound at the back of her throat. “Nay.”
    â€œIt’s for your own protection.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œMy men are excellent knights, but we live in turbulent times.”
    â€œYou don’t trust your own men?” The fear she’d valiantly tamped down rose to the surface as she spoke, and Rourke wished he could explain more.
    â€œIt’s complicated.”
    â€œI see.” Her light footsteps were muffled as she paced the carpeted area of the floor. “So you’ve been ordered to marry me because Prince John wants control of my father and my father’s knights—in case there is a war between the rightful king and those who want the throne?”
    Rourke stopped tapping his fingers. “Caution, lady.”
    â€œWhat? I am but speculating as to why my future is to be laid in ruins at the whim of a prince.”
    â€œYou’ve heard King Richard may be dead?”
    â€œA vile rumor, my lord, as you must be aware.”
    His blood cooled. “What do you think has happened?”
    She sniffed. “Queen Eleanor and William Marshall have taken great pains to send runners all over the country, defying the gossip with truth. Emperor Henry VI is holding King Richard for ransom. We are not so backwoods, my lord, that news doesn’t reach us eventually. That vicious rumor was started by John, so that he could take advantage of our king’s absence.”
    â€œChoose your words wisely, else your brother will not be the only Montehue in the tower.” He forced his words to be harsh—for her sake.
    â€œYou threaten me?”
    â€œI am warning you.” His life was a game of chance, and now by knowing him, so was hers. She’d best learn to guard herself, lest she get hurt.
    â€œStill, I would see Prince John before we wed, and put my case before him.”
    â€œWhat?” Rourke’s gut tightened