Christina Phillips - [Forbidden 02] by Captive

suppose you prefer a demure little mouse who trembles at the thought of crossing her master.”
    An odd notion occurred to him. Was she flirting ? It had been so long since he’d bothered to notice such interplay between the sexes it was hard to recall the rules of engagement. But once, long ago, he’d enjoyed the pastime.
    In another life.
    “A mouse wouldn’t last long with me.” His voice was gruff and he scowled at his stew, unable to believe she really was flirting with him, the man she so blatantly despised. But if not, then what?
    “Not a mouse, then.” She sniffed the wine and took a minute sip. “But clearly your preference is for a woman who defers to you in every matter. One who craves your protection and swoons if you so much as raise your voice to her.”
    A dull ache wrapped around his heart. Squeezed like a vise. Bled him dry and tossed the useless husk aside.
    Eryn, his first love, tiny and fragile, had looked to him in every matter. But she had been no timid mouse. And he would have carved out his heart before hurting her with word or deed.
    Eryn. Her name whispered through his mind, tangled in his memories. As a boy he adored her; as a youth he desired her. And as a man he’d failed her.
    “In that case I’ll find myself a Roman woman.”
    Morwyn shot him a sharp glance but he was concentrating on devouring his food, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. She frowned, took another mouthful and tried to work out why he’d suddenly retreated.
    She’d enjoyed baiting him. To see him at a loss for words was highly entertaining. Especially when it was obvious he struggled to comprehend whether she was being serious or jesting. Had he never flirted? Or was he simply incapable of it?
    They ate in silence for a few moments but tension skittered through her blood, scraped along her nerves. How could he just sit there, ignoring her? He’d taken her from Cymru for his own purposes and then not bothered to follow through.
    And now he wasn’t even talking to her. She shifted on the hard seat and flung him another glance. He wasn’t even looking at her. So why did he insist she accompany him to Camulodunon?
    She drained the wine, and the noise from the tavern echoed through her mind. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant but she had no intention of passing out as she had last night. What she needed was fresh water to clear her head, but it appeared such a basic need was lacking.
    Irritation mounted. When he’d disarmed her in the forest his arousal had been evident. He’d even told that filthy dog who’d been intent on rape that he was taking her to warm his bed at nights. And when she bathed before him, he’d been riveted.
    So why did he ignore her? Why didn’t he take her last night?
    Since the age of fourteen, almost half her lifetime ago, only one male had ever spurned her. But Aeron, the High Druid and ultimate betrayer of their people, had never shown any interest in her sexually.
    On the other hand this infuriating Gaul had. And now that she was in his power he chose to slight her.
    She speared a foreign vegetable and chewed it viciously, as equally savage thoughts pounded through her mind. A distasteful certainty coalesced and no matter how she tried to dismiss the notion it gained momentum and flooded her injured psyche.
    He wanted her. And resented the fact. Because she was nothing like the women he usually lusted after. Meek, subservient.
    Roman .
    The thought of being compared with a Roman woman and found wanting was more than she could stomach. She pushed her plate aside, pride seething. If that was the type of female he preferred, then she had no use for him, in or out of bed.
    For a moment the thought hovered, jangling her nerves. And then she realized the incongruity of her thought and heat scalded her cheeks.
    She had no use for him out of bed. The only reason she willingly stayed with him was because he gave her safe passage to Carys. And fucking him was only a pleasant side benefit. A way to get