"I wondered if…" She closed her eyes, wishing she had said anything else.

"What?"

"If you had a…companion with you."

"Companion? You mean a woman?" He spread his arms toward the room. "As you can see, nay, I don't." His voice dropped an octave to deep and seductive. "You have me all to yourself."

A pleasant, thirsty heat spread over her face and body. She hated him because he easily broke past her defenses despite her best efforts to remain cold and unaffected. "I wish to go to my room now."

"If you want to pass through this door, you must pay the penalty."

"How much?" she blurted, then realized he couldn't have meant coin.

"Hmm. Let me see." He lifted a brow. "Three."

"Three what?"

"Three kisses, madame," he murmured.

She backed up a step, then two, desperate to escape his magnetism.

"'Twill be painless, I vow."

She wasn't worried about the kiss being painful, but anything that might follow, the coupling, the control he would gain over her. Which she could not allow. Besides that, she still wanted to strangle him.

"You look like a trapped hart, love. I would never hurt you. Why can you not trust at least one small thing I do?"

Love? Trust? After what he'd told Rebbie in the library? Trying to manipulate her.

Lachlan leaned a shoulder casually against the door and observed her too closely. "Why do you fear me?"

"I do not fear you. I'm sleepy," she said through clenched teeth.

"You don't appear sleepy. Instead you're angry, but you weren't earlier, when I came to your room. 'Haps you didn't wish me to leave," he said in an enticing tone. "You wanted me to sleep in your bed."

Her mouth dropped open, but no words would emerge. The image of him sleeping in her bed was too overwhelming.

"Aye. That's the reason." A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes.

"You are wrong, monsieur!"

"Well then, explain your mood change."

She wanted to punch him.

"Ah. Mayhap you suspected I had gone off to meet another woman. Which tells me…you are jealous."

"I am not jealous," she ground out.

"In any case, you cannot leave this room until you pay the penalty. And if you have a weapon, put it down."

"I have no weapon."

"'Twill be the first time, then. You were not going to murder me and this imaginary woman you thought was in my bed?"

"Non."

His gaze trailed down over her. "'Haps I should search you to be sure. A man can never be too careful, especially when his wife has a fondness for daggers and pistols."

She took another step away from him and found her back against a wall. Surely he would not do as he suggested.

He cocked his head and watched her. "Come. I won't search you." He held out his hand. "I shall tell you a secret."

She shook her head, her pulse running away, as she wished to do. Heavens, she did not want to touch him. That would too easily distract her and give her those disturbing and frightening carnal urges again. He was so alluring, his deep voice rumbling gently over the words.

He moved in front of her and she committed the error of letting him trap her against the stone wall.

His seductive eyes darkened in the dimness and his lashes lowered. His tall body and the entrancing scent of masculinity enveloped her. She wondered if his tawny hair felt as silky as it looked.

He brushed his warm lips over her forehead, then kissed her there, an affectionate gesture such as she had not received in many years. She could not resist the persuasion of his fingers beneath her chin and did what they compelled her to do, lift her chin. He breathed hot against her mouth. Touched the corner with his. The shape and fullness of his lips aroused her, robbed her mind of rational thought. Her nipples tingled. He pressed his mouth fully to hers, tilted his head and flicked his tongue against her upper lip. A bolt of something dangerously sensuous shot through her. She opened, from shock or from obeying him, she didn't know. He stroked one finger along her cheek and slid his tongue briefly into her mouth. Excitement flowed through her like a searing river of sensation.

"Mmm. The secret is—" He kissed her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, wet and erotic, and toying with hers, then leaving before she was ready. "—you're the only one I want."

Her heart gave a lurch. Some deep, hidden part of her wished his words to be true, craved them to be true as one craves air. For one radiant moment, she imagined they were. While she wasn't paying attention, her hands had buried themselves in the warm silk of his hair and her fingertips grazed his neck. He felt wondrous, his hard chest flattening her breasts.

His talented lips nipped and ate at hers. His tongue ignited a hunger she had never imagined. Sorcerer.

His hands skimmed down her sides to her derriere. Only her thin silk smock and wrap separated their skin, and the heat of his hands burned through. He tugged her against his body. The granite hardness of his male member pressed against her stomach, startling her out of the sensual daze. He will force me! He will hurt me.

A shock wave jolted her. She tore herself away and dashed out the door.

***

Damnation! Lachlan almost had Angelique calmed and aroused. But he'd gone too fast. What the devil had scared her? Not the kisses; she liked kisses. Mmm, she'd tasted like heaven, sweeter than a honey-drizzled tart he wanted to sink his teeth into.

He pressed a hand against his erection to ease his frustration. Maybe that was it. Maybe his aroused shaft frightened her. Though she had seen it in London. He didn't know what would be frightening about that part of his body. Women had told him his tarse was of a large size, compared to most men, but they always seemed to like and appreciate that. But maybe the size did scare Angelique, if she hadn't much experience. She might not be a virgin, but he would wager, she was almost so.

She'd been in his room to see if a woman was in here. What a jealous lass she was. She didn't wish to occupy his bed nor would she allow another woman to occupy it. She wanted him to become a monk in truth.

Not since he'd been a lad of fourteen had he needed to relieve his frustrations himself. Women had spoiled him. He wanted sex and he wanted it a lot. But now, none. Cut off from one of his favorite activities because of his wife. A wife he had erotic dreams about. And waking fantasies of soothing the hellcat, making her purr in his ear and sink her claws into his back to hold him in place on top of her. Between her legs.

Cursing at the intense need plowing through him, he paced. 'Twas easy to see she wanted him, from the languid, curious look in her eyes to the way she'd held onto him and accepted his kisses moments ago.

A fantasy formed in his mind… she would straddle his thighs and impale herself upon him. Sliding up and down... so wet. Mmmm. How he would love for her to ride him fast and hard as if possessed by some erotic demon. He would give her so much pleasure, if only she would allow him.

Tomorrow. Indeed, he would seduce her tomorrow.

***

Three days after Kormad and his men had left London, they sat in the drab common room at The Ram's Head Inn in Perth. The bones and remains of their meal littered the table before them.

"Where the hell is Pike?" Kormad muttered. "He said he would meet us here this day. The ship's already come in and he should've been here by now." He hoped Pike had thrown MacGrath and Angelique overboard into the deep, chill waters of the Channel.