Chapter Five

Rhiannon paced the floor of Ilar’s bedchamber, trying to get control of her emotions. Her cheeks flamed as she remembered what his body felt like against hers. She could still taste his kiss on her lips and, though she told herself she hated every wet minute of it, she wanted to try more. Oh, and how she wished his hand hadn’t stopped!

Halting in her frantic movements, she stared defiantly at the firelight. Did she actually just think that? Did she actually wish to have the nieten touch her? To her horror, she knew the answer was yes, she did. It was so wrong, but she liked his frightening power. She liked that he wasn’t like the men of her world. There was a raw power to him, as if passion boiled beneath a refined surface. Though refined wasn’t exactly the right word either. She saw the gentleman in him, but wondered how much of it was real and how much an illusion to hide the creature he carried within. Rhiannon liked the bold way he stared at her with liquid dark eyes that swam with golden swirls. Her father would be horrified if he ever discovered what she’d allowed to happen. He’d turn her from the castle, from her family.

“Ah, so sad, little sparrow caught in her cage, cannot fly away. Poor, poor sparrow.”

Rhiannon froze, not making any sudden movements. She knew that taunting, rolling voice. It pricked at her memory.

“Trapped in her cage, wings broken by a beast.”