Immortal Hope by Claire Ashgrove

finish, classes to teach.”
    “Nay, damsel.”
    “But—”
    He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “You shall find a television in the common room upstairs. Mayhap your intended shall watch it with you.”
    The ludicrousness of his suggestion was enough to temporarily sidetrack her from convincing him into seeing things her way. “In the common room?” Her voice rose in indignation. “When I find this … this … intended, I can’t even watch television alone with him? What happened to privacy?”
    He looked at her with such a quizzical expression she almost laughed. Giving her a shake of his head, his frown deepened. “’Tis our way. We own very little, as is mandated by the oath we swore centuries ago. Anything of luxury is shared by all.”
    Anne rolled her eyes. “A TV isn’t a luxury. Cable maybe. TV—not hardly. And what about books? I have research to do, reports to write—I can’t focus in a room full of people or in one maddeningly silent. And I need my books.”
    He shrugged. “We have books in the library—far more than you would ever expect. You may read to your heart’s content there. I am certain you can find something of merit.”
    She flopped back against the chair’s thick stuffing and grumbled. Obviously, he didn’t understand how important key research materials were. She’d spent too long accumulating everything she needed to start over with new references. Under her breath she muttered, “Maybe my intended will be more compassionate.”
    Merrick must have heard her, for his eyes glittered coal black. He cocked his head and gave her a hard stare. “You think I lack compassion?”
    Anne let out a soft snort. “Listen to yourself, and you tell me.”
    As the twitch started along his jaw, she hurried to end their argument. Enough of this. It wasn’t as if she planned on staying permanently. She’d spend some time here, learn the secrets history couldn’t record, and get out of this prison. Back to her classroom and her uneventful life. Maybe she could find something new and useful in the library he mentioned. In the meantime, however, humoring him would work to her advantage. If he believed she intended to stay, he’d likely be more apt to tell her things he otherwise wouldn’t. Feigning a harassed sigh, she answered, “Fine, let’s begin.”
    He stared down at her, imposing in his size and demeanor. “You will swear to me, if I agree to your terms, you shall admit the truth when you see it.”
    “Whatever. I’ll tell you if I see it. Are you happy?”
    His mouth pursed. “Nay. Kneel and swear.”
    Kneel? Oh hell no. She tightened her hands around the chair’s arms. “You’ll just have to trust me. I refuse to kneel.”
    The tightening at his shoulders indicated he didn’t care for her refusal, but when she didn’t budge, he gave her a shrug. “So be it. Since we are so obviously incompatible, let us get this out of the way first.” In a fluid motion, he fisted his hand at the nape of his torn shirt and doffed it.
    Anne almost choked. Smooth taut muscles bunched and pulled across his broad chest. Pectorals she’d only seen in magazines confronted her, marred only by a long white scar that ran beneath one, wrapped around his ribs, and disappeared somewhere behind his back. Her gaze dropped to his belly, and she counted four … no eight … tight cords across the washboard surface. Oh good Lord.
    She let her stare travel down a thick line of dark hair that led beneath his jeans, and couldn’t keep her gaze off his groin no matter how she told herself she wouldn’t look. To her complete surprise, the light denim pulled tight. Oh, he wasn’t … He couldn’t be … She swallowed. Yes, he was. Hard. A flush crept into her cheeks, and she jerked her gaze to his face.
    Merrick’s eyes flickered, the only indication he was aware of her appreciative stare. In the next heartbeat, however, the interest in his gaze gave way to the cold impassiveness she’d