Enthralled

Excerpt

“You would not dance with me earlier.” Ami stilled, surprised by her own blurting.

“You know why.”

William’s vague acknowledgement of what stood between them shivered and stretched through her, sparking hope and dread. He stared at the flames until the light must have blinded him.

“You kissed me,” she whispered, “on the steps, not a month ago. You...”

“I have kissed you many times.”

“Not like that. Not with...” The memory alone nearly erased her ability to think. He’d not kissed her, but practically claimed her. His mouth firm and confident, her body pressed between his and the wall, no inch of him left to her imagination. The kiss had changed her, and if Aedan and Tess hadn’t interrupted them, he could’ve taken her maidenhead on Carlisle’s steps. She would’ve welcomed the loss. “I would not say no,” she whispered.

“You are not free to give me your consent.” William lowered his hands, his fingers fisting at his side. “Nor I am free to accept it. I cannot give you what you wish, Ami,” he said, the pain his in voice as sharp as a shearing blade. “Ever.”

“But you wish it, too.”

“My wishes are as irrelevant as yours.”

“Irrelevant?” She stepped away from the bittersweet warmth of his presence. The heavy pain in her chest was not irrelevant. Nor was the bitter anger boiling in her stomach.

“You are promised to Hugh of Braose.”

“I do not want to wed him, William,” she whispered. “Please do not make me.”

He turned away from her. “I cannot change that or the terms of the marriage contract. Even if I could, I would not. ’Tis for our elevation.”

“Your elevation.”

“The entire family will benefit. That is the whole point of marriage.”

She looked at the spoon in her hand, tempted to rake it across his face, tried to imagine a lifetime without him and failed. “We grew up in a cold home. Do not put me in another one.”

He stepped closer, captured her in the pool of heat that was as much a part of him as the stick up his ass that made turning him midcourse next to impossible. “’Twill be your home. You can make it as bright and warm as you want.”

The spoon bent in her hand. “Not without...”

You. She swallowed the word, tossed away the mangled utensil and set her hand against his chest. The agitated pace of his heart pulsed against her fingers as the tug-of-war between desire and duty held him motionless.

“Please do not do this to me.”

She let her fear rise to her eyes, pushed it through her body, from her skin to his.

“Stop, Ami. I know your tricks.” He lifted her hand from his chest. “And I will not be swayed by them as I was as a boy. I have already sent a note to Papa. I told him you would be brought home, soon.”

“What?” For a moment, she was frozen by disbelief, then fury swept through her like a forest fire. Wood popped in the hearth, and the kitchen brightened. “Brought home?”

Grabbing his chin, she forced his gaze to hers.

“I will not be dismissed, shuffled off like a cow to market. I will not go. Do you hear me? I will not.”

“Ami, you must go back. I leave with the queen.”

“Then I will ask the queen to invite me to court,” Ami said. “She liked me well enough.”

“No,” he whispered in a dagger-sharp voice. “I would leave you at the steps to hell before I would allow you at court.”