Stolen (Royally Hot 1) - Page 8

“If you’re thinking of working as one of her girls, lass, you’ll need a reference,” he growled. “I’d like to take the first plunge in your pool.” He sniffed hard, lecherous lust in his eyes as he peeled his lips back from brown, rotting teeth. “You are pure, I can smell it on you.”

A wave of nausea came up from my stomach into my mouth, as much from the smell as from the idea of him thinking, even for one moment, about my pool.

Still, with one arm wrapped around me, he started digging in his pockets. I heard coins jingle and he chortled. “Won’t be able to raise my member for a while yet. But I’ll give you five farthings in advance and pay the rest once the deal is done. Maybe, have your Mistress inside tie you to the bed and hold you for me until I’m ready…surely a few farthings more will entice her to give me my way.”

He was vile. I was revolted by his presence, by his assumptions. I might have hated Angelica at that moment, but if this was what she had to put up with I couldn’t help but feel sympathy too. I was less afraid of him than I was furious at the sound of his words, the touch of his fingers.

His molten entitlement to another person’s very being.

He was much bigger than me, but I knew from my experience of my father that drink made men slow and sloppy.

Drawing back my hand, I slapped him across his greasy face, drawing a roar of anger.

“You will not touch me that way.” I screamed. “Let me go or…” I pressed my hands to his shoulders, daring to finish as his face bloomed with a red welt and I saw anger flash in his eyes.

My heart thundered as I squirmed, knowing if I could free myself from his grip I could get away.

But then, as if God himself had stepped in, the man was plucked away. His feet dangled, no longer touching the earth. A massive hand attached to a thick, veined forearm held him around his pimply neck as his hands tugged at the locked fingers crushing his windpipe.

Bors.

He glanced my way, looking me up and down, his eyes wild with fury and…but there was something else there...

I shrank back. I was pinned beneath his gaze, aware on some level of what it meant.

Need.

Desire.

Frightening and exciting, drawing a response from me I’d never before known.

My heart thundered as he threw the man into a hedge of holly bushes, roaring with spittle-filled rage. Then I watched as he stomped toward him yet again, grabbed him by the shirt, hauled him to his feet and dragged him over to Angelica’s pigsty, dropping him headfirst into the sloppy, filthy mess.

“Stay right there,” he raged, kicking the pigsty gate, making it rattle against its hinges. “Wallowing in shit where you belong.”

Despite myself, I choked back a giggle, covering my mouth with the back of my hand as the man rose to his feet, gasping against the pig muck that covered his face, slipping in it as he tried to stumble away from the pigs sniffing around him.

“You even look her way again and I’ll fucking kill you. Or, the hogs may do it for me first.”

He turned to me, looking me up and down with that same fire in his eyes he’d had in the town square. Then he headed my way, and I wanted to curl into myself and disappear. Yet, at the same time, I wanted to fling myself at him and whisper into his ear the things he was making me feel.

Under the shadow of the budding magnolia tree next to where we stood, Bors took me in his arms, his voice still harsh but softer now as he asked, “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. He was so close, I could smell his scent, like a pine forest after a soaking rain. “I mean, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” His eyes darkened. “If he’s hurt a hair on your head, I’ll fucking—”

“No. Please. He was just drunk.”

“Drunk is no fucking excuse.” His hands ran down over my hips as he dropped to his knees at my feet. “I need to check you. I take care of what’s…” He glanced up, drawing a deep breath to stop himself.

I placed my hand on his immense shoulder. I could feel the heat of his body through the fabric and once again, I ached to trace every muscle and fiber. “Don’t stop…finish what were you going to say…”

He shook his head as he continued running his hands over me, making my knees nearly buckle, the flutter inside my center making me feel I might crumple into a ball at his feet.

Tags: Dani Wyatt Royally Hot Romance
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