From IRON HEART: (a Medieval road-trip)
His tawny brown hair was in wild disarray. He raked it back from his face with both hands, leaving the mane of a lion to surround his green tiger-eyes.
“Do it and be done with it,” she sobbed, staring
up at the ceiling.
“Do it?” He
gave a bark of laughter. “The women I make love to do not have snot running out
there noses, nor do they shriek with terror. They often moan with pleasure, of
course, but that is a different matter altogether.”
She wiped one hand across her nose and mouth.
What was wrong with him? Was this his first time marauding? Did he not know the
rewards due the conquering hero? “You are not going to beat me and have your
way with me?”
“It would be poor repayment for your saving my
life, even if you were compelled to do so out of greed.”
“Then you are different from every other man,” she
accused, still not believing him. She drew the covers up to her chin as if they
would protect her should he change his mind.
“I war only with men,” he said scornfully. “And I have
yet to find it necessary to force myself upon a woman. They generally come to
me quite willingly.” His crooked smile revealed even white teeth, and a touch
of pride mingled with his last words. “But I do not favor being tied up,” he
added, the ferocity returning to his features. “And I will not tolerate being
questioned and ordered about. You have nothing to fear from me as long as you
tell me the truth.”
With a shuddering breath Leanora
tried to quiet her pounding heart.
The truth was the last thing he would wring from her.
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