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"What do you think you’re doing?"
She flinched, his loud voice ringing
in her ears. The veins in his throat stood out when he shouted, and she
watched with interest as red suffused his cheeks.
"Don’t you know how dangerous that
was? Don’t you have any sense? You could’ve broken your neck!" His
fingers dug into her flesh. Even through the dress, it hurt.
He shook her, as if by such an action
he could shake the sense he was talking about into her. Her teeth
rattled.
Her own fury rose up, matching his.
At the back of her mind, she knew she had no reason to be angry, but
fright, coupled with his unjust and unfounded anger, was igniting hers.
"I was safe enough until someone
startled me! That someone" -- her tone left no doubt who that someone
was -- "could’ve caused my broken neck!"
Her heaving bosom proved to be too
much for the too-small bodice. A button popped, hitting him on the right
cheek with a small sound. She hoped it hurt like hell.
He didn’t so much as flinch.
"You wouldn’t have been startled if
you weren’t up there doing Goddess-knows-what!"
"Put me down!" She struggled and
glared at him when his arms tightened even more about her. She was
starting to realize just how much at a disadvantage she was in her
present position.
"I’m keeping you here until I can be
sure that you aren’t likely to do further damage to yourself." His voice
was grim and his chin tightened with determination.
"What’s it to you?"
She could see he didn’t like the
challenging way she posed the question. She didn’t know why she asked it
or what had goaded her to make it into a dare, only that it seemed the
perfect rebuttal to his caveman attitude.
"What were you doing anyway?"
She didn’t need great intelligence to
know what he was asking. "I was dusting the books." Her mouth set in a
mutinous line as she gathered her dignity about her as best as she could
while lying in his arms.
"Dusting --" He broke off, his eyes
betraying his incredulity. "I have servants for that!"
"They’re understaffed!"
"It’s still their job!"
"I want to help!"
"You’re my guest!"
"I was bored!" A second later, she
corrected herself. "I am bored!"
"You could read or play the piano or
the harp or --"
"I hate the piano; I hate the harp; I
hate music!"
Their eyes met, her defiance the only
thing keeping her from backing down from the fury in his. There was now
a different texture to his anger -- deeper, darker, and tinged with
disappointment.
The most awful transformation had
come over his face. If it seemed hard and unyielding earlier, it became
even more so. Forbidding and grim, he scared her, causing her breath to
shorten. His eyes no longer held molten lava, but were cold and empty.
"So, your true colors are finally
showing."
Even his voice terrified her.
What was he talking about? Serena
wanted to demand an answer, but her tongue was glued to the roof of her
mouth and black spots were dancing in front of her eyes. He was holding
her too tightly. Automatically, she took in several deep breaths, and
the dark spots dispersed.
But it came with a price.
A second button from her bodice
pinged to the floor, but not before grazing his cheek.
His eyes moved downward fractionally
from her face, and yet another change came over him. The stark emptiness
in his eyes receded, replaced by a burning intensity. His face
softened, the rough angles curved,
and his white teeth gleamed as he smiled -- seductive, predatory,
devouring.
Serena shivered.
The air around them changed. She
became aware of his heat -- the heat of his arms around her, the heat of
his body as she lay against him, and the heat in his eyes blazing down
at her.
Her breath lodged in her throat.
His eyes were so blue ... with fire
burning in their depths.
As if in a dream, her hand reached up
and curved against his cheek. She was aware that he was moving, carrying
her somewhere, but nothing mattered. She was held in thrall, captive to
his blue gaze.
The cool leather against her back
doused some of the flames he ignited, bringing her somewhat to her
senses. She recalled their anger and the argument. It seemed a lifetime
away. What had happened?
A gentle hand at her ear drew her
gaze back to him. There was a strange expression on his face as he
tucked an errant curl behind her ear, something like ... tenderness, the
way she sometimes caught her uncle looking at her aunt when he thought
nobody was looking. His eyes though were intent on her mouth, and she
knew he intended to kiss her.
A thrill shot through her. Her first
to-be kiss.
She cursed the moment thoughts of PB
intruded, making her feel guilty and ashamed.
He leaned closer.
"Your ... Your Highness ..." she
stuttered.
"Frederick." His head continued its
slow descent.
"We ... we shouldn’t --"
"You were complaining about boredom,
I believe." His lids dropped halfway to veil his eyes, giving him a
brooding, sensual look.
Her heart fluttered.
Then he leaned even closer, until he
was but a breath away. "I’ll show you" -- his head moved a centimeter
nearer, and her eyes closed -- "a much better way to occupy your time."
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