The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [4]
Evidently Lord Douglas didn’t miss the threat. He snatched his hand away as if burned. “She was afraid she would—”
“Selene is afraid of nothing.” He smiled at Selene. “Though she should be.”
Oh, yes, this was the Kadar she wanted to rouse. But he was wrong: She was afraid of him in this moment. She hid it as she smiled back at him. “I see nothing to fear. Lord Douglas can protect me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Because he’s going to go and fetch your cloak, aren’t you, Lord Douglas?”
Lord Douglas was nervously glancing from one to the other. “Perhaps we should all return—”
“I need a word with the lady Selene. I’m sure you’ll understand.”
Douglas drew a deep breath and then straightened his shoulders. “I feel it my duty to stay until she feels well enough to go back to the hall.”
She hadn’t counted on this. She had thought he would scurry away when Kadar showed his claws. Was he a fool that he couldn’t see the danger Kadar represented? She shivered. “I do feel chilled. Would you please fetch my cloak, Douglas?”
He hesitated and then, to her immense relief, took the out she’d given him. He bowed. “As you wish.”
She watched him hurry across the courtyard.
“You’re usually better at reading people.” Kadar’s gaze was also on Lord Douglas. “He was braver than you thought.”
“Yes.” She didn’t try subterfuge. It never worked with Kadar.
He knew her too well. “Brave or blind. He may be the one lacking in judgment.” She turned to face him, the excitement building. “What would you have done if I hadn’t sent him away?”
“What do you think?”
“I’m asking you.”
“Killed him,” he said casually. “I was very irritated with our young lord. I was considering a knife to the belly. He would have died slowly and painfully.”
“Why were you irritated?”
He smiled. “You know why.”
“Tell me.”
“He touched you. I’m sure it was by your design, but he still touched you. How did it feel to have his hand on you?”
She had barely been aware of that touch. She had been too focused on its effect on Kadar. “Exciting.”
He chuckled. “You lie.”
“Well, it could have been—under other circumstances. I’m weary of living life like one of the nuns at the abbey. You have no right to complain. Do you think I don’t hear of the women you bed? You’ve not left a willing wench in the Highlands untouched, and heaven knows what you do on your journeys to Spain and Italy.”
“Heaven knows.”
“It’s not funny. And it’s not fair.”
“Life is unfair.”
“Well, I won’t have it. I’m weary of being the only woman in Scotland you won’t bed.”
“So you tried to stir me to action with the sword of jealousy. As I remember, you threatened some such ploy before. Very clever.” He tilted his head. “But dangerous.”
“That was years ago. I was still a child.”
“You’re still a child in some ways.”
“I’m not. Though you treat me as one.” She drew a deep breath and attacked. “I want you to wed me.”
His smile faded. “I know you do.”
“I . . . care about you.”
“I know.”
“And you feel something for me. I also know that, Kadar.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then wed me.” She tried to smile. “You could hardly do better. Thea and I share the profits from the silk trade we started here at Montdhu. I’m a fine match.”
“For any man.” He shook his head. “Not now, Selene.”
“Why not? I told you, I’m not a child any longer. I don’t remember ever feeling like a child.”
“That’s part of our problem.”
Disappointment surged through her. But it was what she had expected. She launched her second foray. “Then bed me. Now. Tonight.”
He went still. She could see the tightening of his lips, the slight flare of his nostrils. She took a step closer. She had struck home. “I want you to do it.”
“Do you?”
“I won’t go on this way.” She drew a deep breath. “Touch me.”
He didn’t move, but she could feel the tension of his body.
“You never touch me.”
“There’s good reason,” he said thickly.
She moved closer, took his hand, and put it on her shoulder. It was heavy and warm through the silk of her gown. She felt a thrill of fear mixed with an odd, hot tingle. “I watched men and women couple in the