a deserted corridor. "Are you ready to kiss me yet, husband-to-be?" She had to look up at him.
Yes, he was ready, and more than ready. He immediately caught her wrist, then trapped her waist with his other arm. She stiffened, blue eyes wide. With shock? Anger? Excitement? He still couldn't read her, and at that moment he didn't much care.
He put his lips against hers, then stopped, wondering what she would do. She did nothing, but disconcertingly, still stared at him, unblinking.
"Don't you know what to do?" he taunted against her lips.
"I'm waiting to see if you do." But the words moved her lips against his, and brought a hint of her warm breath to play. His body reacted instantly and he froze, frightened of himself.
He saw the glint in her eye, and the next moment she stuck out her tongue and licked at his lips.
He pushed her away, but not far. "Who's taught you tricks like that?"
She smiled in the way that infuriated him. "Who's taught you to recognize them?"
"It's different for men and women."
"Is it?"
Infuriated, he dragged her back and kissed her, hard and rough, not caring if she was impressed or not, just intent on showing her who was master. She stayed stiff in his arms for a moment, but then suddenly relaxed and kissed him back, tongue playing, body curving in closer to his.
He enjoyed it thoroughly until he realized what was happening. Then he jerked back with shock and let her go. "You have kissed before!"
She cocked her hip. "Have I?"
"Who?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Yes, so I could kill him."
She laughed. "You? "
He hit her.
She cried out, hand to her red cheek. Then she hissed with rage and went for him with her fists, her nails, with every part of her slender, strong body. He tried to control her and found it impossible, so they ended up in an all-out fight, a tangled wrestling match, scraped, scratched, bruised, and with fine clothing torn to rags. They had to be pulled apart, snarling like wild dogs, and he'd been sent home to face his father's wrath.
Chapter 3
"Heywood's talking of annulling the betrothal, you dumbskull!"
"She drives me mad!"
"So you hit her?" Lord William's hand cracked against Galeran's face with the full force of his mighty arm behind it, knocking Galeran to his knees and loosening a couple of teeth. "Can't you think of another way of handling a delicate maid?"
"Delicate? That she-wolf?"
That got him hauled to his feet and slammed on the other side of his face. For all his gruff manner, Lord William hated to see a woman hurt. His father whipped him, and when he'd finished said, "Keep out of my way, and when you're healed, get back to Heywood and put it right."
It had taken three weeks for the sores to heal and the bruises to fade, three weeks of wishing the torments of hell on Jehanne of Heywood but strangely, of missing her too. It had never occurred to him to complete his sexual education.
When Galeran returned to Heywood he had been very uncertain of his welcome from Fulk or his daughter, but certain that he wanted forgiveness. The thought of losing Jehanne was like acid.
Anyway, he reasoned, his father was right. It should not be necessary for a man to hit a woman to control her, even a woman like Jehanne. He was prepared to apologize to her, though he hoped she didn't gloat or his tolerance would be stretched thin.
To his surprise, Fulk made no difficulty over the matter at all, merely remarking that he hoped that the next time Jehanne displeased him, Galeran would beat her properly instead of getting into a brawl over it.
The mere idea was daunting unless six strong men tied her up first, but Galeran said all the right things and went in search of his wife-to-be.
He found her in the garden, subdued and radiating grievance rather than satisfaction. She listened to his carefully phrased apology, then said, "You got me whipped."
" I got you whipped!"
Her eyes brightened. "If you were punished, you deserved it."
"If you were punished, so did