Lady Thief by Rizzo Rosko Page A

down to her breast and
touched her budding nipple. He had sighed his pleasure with her
small gasp. Heat radiated from her body and towards his, feeding a
carnal desire that only grew hungrier. His fingers cupped her chin,
traveled up the smooth flesh of her cheek and threaded her hair.
Her hands braved their way up his chest, her own smaller fingers
curiously tangling into the rough hair of his chest.
    He was rock hard, had not realized his
breathing had become labored until he tried to calm it. His eyes
left her fingers and found her grey orbs. Standing so close, he
found flecks of blue hidden within, like sky trying to break free
from the storm clouds.
    He smirked at the fitting description. She
too tried had to break free. Indeed, she’d staged his kidnapping to
break her father and Ferdinand.
    He looked at her face, which glowed with
building lust under his touch. No trace foreshadowed the passion he
wanted her to feel. Passion for him.
    He’d just admitted to not loving her, and he
knew where she stood on that subject. If he were to build her lust
higher and higher only to take her, she would surely hate him when
her wits returned from their holiday between her legs. He did not
want that, the very thought brought a sinking feeling into his
chest.
    William was going to have her. Soon. That had
already been decided for the both of them the day he first laid
eyes on his infuriated wife. Yet, he was a knight, and he would
honor his word. Ah, but when he did have her, she would purr in
contentment when the loving was over.
    Anger flared from within, directed at
himself. Any man could touch her like that and the reaction would
be exactly the same. She did not want him, and when he stepped away
from her, reached for his clothes and dressed, her face twisted in
horror.
    As if suddenly aware of her nudity, she
covered her breasts with her hands, searched for her robe on the
floor and snatched it to cover the rest of her. “What are you
doing?”
    He could not bring himself to look at her. He
had believed that if he so much as glanced in her direction he
would abandon his wits and do something they would later
regret.
    He dressed with little concern for his
appearance and thought of a lie. “‘Tis late, and there is still
much work to be done. Tomorrow you will show me these improvements
you have made and, as promised, we shall spend time together.”
    “Oh.”
    The small sound startled him, and despite
himself he looked at her, though she refused to look back. “Are you
displeased?”
    She shook her head, clutching her robe around
herself with both hands. “Nay, ‘tis just that…”
    He waited, but she seemed unable to say
anything. He left her so that he might sleep painfully in his
solar. As sleepless hours crept by, he reminded himself that if he
was patient, their loving would be so much more than a night of
lust. She would be his forever, just as she had made him hers on
their wedding day.
    “My lord?”
    William shook his head, clearing his thoughts
and returning to the garden. How could she keep her reactions so
polite and calm when he could think of naught else but her pliant
skin? He envied her.
    “Forgive me, you were saying?”
    “I asked you of your morning meal.” She
huffed, her arms crossed.
    The sight brought a twitch to his lips, and
he crossed his own arms in mocking fun. “It was served on time and
hot. You are a much better chatelaine than I would have
thought.”
    “You thought I would not be?”
    He shook his head. “Again, forgive me, but on
the day you vowed to see to the affairs of my household, ‘twas
difficult to…” He thought of the proper words to use without
harming her feelings, but none would come.
    Her arms clenching tighter around her bosom,
narrowed eyes told him that she had supplied words of her own.
“Take my claim seriously?”
    He chuckled. “With your temper ‘tis not easy
to take any part of you seriously.”
    Her body shook, face set in a deep scowl,
like she would