Tamed by a Knight Page 6
At this latter point, he set her away and smiled, a quirked eyebrow signaling his triumph.
Jacq dragged air into her lungs, her knees going weak. Why did this man have such an effect on her? She willed iron into her spine and straightened, anger building quickly at the humiliating way he’d treated her, and more so at herself for responding.
Without a thought to repercussions, she darted out her hand and slapped the smirk off that cold, hard face. The resounding smack of her palm against his cheek echoed in the harsh silence that followed. Her hand stung like the dickens. Her eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat. Uh-oh.
The white palm print stood out against the dark tan on Lord Rathburn’s cheek. A mottled flush spread up his neck into his face, and his eyelids lowered dangerously. A twitch began near his left eye, and Jacq knew the time to retreat had come.
Pulse racing, she dove through the door flap and, without looking back, dashed past the row of tents and men milling about the camp. She didn’t have to turn to know he was close on her heels. The ground fairly thundered with the pounding of his bare feet against the hard dirt.
As she reached the edge of the camp, a soldier stepped into her path to block her way. With the desperation of a trapped animal, she kneed the man, sending him to the ground groaning. She leapt over his inert body and took two more strides before a heavy hand clapped upon her shoulder.
Putting her father’s self-defense training into action, she stopped suddenly and crouched low, using his forward momentum to roll another soldier over her shoulder.
He landed on his back, eyes wide, the air forced from his lungs in a loud “oomph.”
Jacq sprang past his sprawled form and made a break for the dense forest beyond. Just as she reached the tree line, a hurtling form clipped the back of her knees, bringing her down hard, face first in the dirt. When her senses cleared, she tried to scramble to her feet, but her legs were trapped beneath a huge weight. No amount of wiggling or squirming could dislodge it. A glance behind her confirmed her worse suspicions, and she groaned. “Damn.” Lying naked in the dirt, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, was the pigheaded warrior, Lord Rathburn. And he looked mad.
When he rose to his feet, he lifted her from the ground in one fluid motion, flinging her over his shoulder before she could utter a word of protest.
Survival instincts took over. Jacq kicked and pounded her fists against the muscles of his back.
In response, he wrapped the fabric of her skirt tightly around her legs to still the wild motion.
He could do nothing about her hands, so she continued to pummel his back with all her might.
“Cease, woman!”
“Put me down!” she yelled right back, intensifying her assault.
An iron hand whacked her upturned bottom hard enough to make an impact through the velvet layers of her gown.
“Yeeooow!” she screeched. Her pounding was momentarily forgotten with the shocking realization he’d just spanked her. Rage shot through her like Old Faithful at show time. She dug her nails into the skin on his backside and raked them upward.
Again his hand landed, stinging with the force and bringing tears to her eyes. His strides lengthened as he traveled back through the camp.
Snickers sounded from the crowd gathered along Rathburn’s path. Jacq leaned up to deliver blistering glares at the men they passed, which only made them laugh harder.
“Need a hand with her, milord?” offered one soldier.
“She’s a big one, it may take two to hold her down,” shouted another.
“My kind of woman. What spirit! I’ll bet she gives a hell of a ride.”
“Just don’t give her to a puling like James. He’s still lying in the dirt moaning from the ride she gave him. And he never even got between her legs.”
The snickers grew into full laughter as the naked and dirty Lord Rathburn reached his tent. He flung aside the flap, strode in, and tossed her to the pile of furs on the ground.
“You will bathe me, and then you will dry me.” He sat once more on the stool and crossed muscled arms over his chest. “Now!”
Jacq leapt to her feet, rubbed her sore bottom and stared. This was a battle of wills—and he’d won easily. Dare she incite him again?
The twitch next to his left eye was still there.
Perhaps he was a little more dangerous than originally anticipated. She grabbed a cloth from the bucket of water and inched closer. Unable to look at his face, and disconcerted by the way her gaze kept straying downward, she circled him. She’d never washed a man before. Where the hell should she start? She touched the cloth to his muscled neck.
In a flash of movement, he swiveled on his stool, grabbing her arm. With a sharp tug, he unbalanced her, sending her flying across his naked thighs to sit in his lap.
“Don’t try anything, witch.” His voice was little more than a growl.
“I wasn’t, you big bully.” She pushed a palm against the rock-hard wall of his hairy chest. “Let me up.”
“Not until you understand your position.”
“Oh, I know my position, all right.” Jacq’s words dripped sarcasm as she stared from his sinewy thighs, still-erect cock and up to his chest. “I would have to be an idiot not to figure it out.” She tipped her head to the side, placed a fingertip to her chin and rolled her eyes. “Let’s see, you’re about twice as big as I am and probably three times stronger. That would make it, like, hard for me to be your equal. Have I got it right?” she said in her best clueless voice.
“Stop your insolence, woman.” His voice roared in the confines of the small tent.
Anger still simmering, she grabbed his face between her hands and looked him square in the eyes. “You are bigger than me, therefore you can force me to do whatever you want. But, that does not make it right.” She enunciated each word as if he were a kindergarten student with an attitude.
“I care not whether the act is right or wrong. Do as I command, and I give you my protection. Disobey, and my protection is withdrawn.” He grabbed her chin with one hand and turned up her face to his until they were nose to nose. “Do you understand?”