Hearts Aflame by Johanna Lindsey Page B

curves.
    They took away her boots, giving her a pair of soft-soled house shoes, which would have been fine, except that they meant to put the shackles back on her, and the shoes did not cover her ankles. She was not going to wear that iron against her bare skin again without a fight, and she told them so. The older one, Eda, chose wisely to let a higher authority decide, and simply carried the shackles with her as she and two others escorted Kristen upstairs.
    Though she could not say why exactly, Kristen was nervous now that she knew she would be seeing Lord Royce again. She did not think he would approve of herin any way, yet there was still that tiny possibility that he might, now that she was washed and groomed.
    He was seated next to a small table honing a long, double-edged sword when Eda pushed Kristen into the room. Without explaining why Kristen was not wearing the irons, she simply placed them on the table and left, closing the door behind her and leaving Kristen standing in the middle of the room.
    It was a large, uncluttered chamber. Besides the low post bed off to the left of the door and the large coffer at the foot of it, there was the small table with four chairs around it in the center of the room. Directly opposite the door, another coffer with a lock on it sat between two opened windows like a bench. There was another, larger window on the other side of the bed that looked out over the front yard. There were no tapestries to brighten the room, or rugs on the floor, but the wall on Kristen’s right was hung with an assortment of weapons.
    She had yet to look directly at him, though she could feel his eyes on her. She waited for him to speak, but long moments dragged by and he did not. She had perused everything in the room and had nowhere else to look. She was not in the habit of meekly casting her eyes down at the floor. She had only done so outside because Thorolf had warned her that her eyes were too long-lashed for a boy’s and she should not draw attention to them.
    She started at his boots, moving slowly up his body until their eyes locked. Now she could not look away even if she wanted to. She saw no hate. Surprise was what she found.
    “Who are you?”
    The question seemed torn from him in bewilderment. What could he have been thinking to be so confused?
    “What exactly do you want to know?” she countered“My name is Kristen, but I think you would seek more than that.”
    The way he stood up and moved toward her made her think he hadn’t heard a word she said. His expression was still more surprised than anything, though there was something else there now that she couldn’t quite define. He didn’t stop until mere inches separated them, and then his fingers rose to trace the expanse of one creamy cheek.
    “You hid it well, this beauty.”
    Warily Kristen stepped back. “You said I was no temptation.”
    “That was before.”
    She groaned inwardly. Aye, that was desire lighting the green depths of his eyes as they moved over her face and then down the length of her. She didn’t fool herself that she might be able to match her strength to his. Not his. He wore a long-sleeved tunic today, and the muscles that she remembered bulged against the thin linen of it. He could crush her with his large hands. He could have her lying beneath him in a matter of moments. And there was no one in this whole land who could stop him from having her, for she was his enemy, defeated, and he could do what he wanted with her.
    “You will not find it easy to rape me,” Kristen said in a soft, warning tone.
    “Rape you?” He changed before her eyes, dark fury etching the lines of his face now. “I would not demean myself to rape a Viking whore!”
    Kristen had never in her life been so insulted. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him so, but she stopped herself as logic began to analyze his words. He had spoken with such disgust. And it was not so farfetched that he should think her a whore. It could