He shut his eyes and felt himself plunging headlong into hell.
The next moment he shot off his stool and approached the biggest man in the room.
“Here, friend,” he said, tapping the man’s shoulder. “If your mother’s as ugly as you are, then she must be the finest bitch in the king’s own kennels.”
The unknown man roared his outrage, the sound of which was solace to Hugh’s ears. He clenched his fists and knew with contentment that for the space of the next half hour he would be able to banish every thought of Rosaleen, and home, from his mind.
The soft stroke of fingers upon her cheek wakened Rosaleen. It was dark in the room, but the light of the moon spilling through the shutters offered some visibility. Blinking, she tried to focus but couldn’t make sense of what was before her eyes. It was broad and solid and fleshcolored, and lightly sprinkled with hair. She blinked again, and again.
“Tell me that isn’t you, Hugh Caldwell,” she whispered, “lying in my bed as naked as the day you were born.”
His fingers continued to caress her, and she could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, obediently, “It’s not me lying in your bed as naked as the day I was born.”
Slowly, her eyes moved upward to look into his face. He was smiling pleasantly, as relaxed and happy as could be, and Rosaleen forced herself to remain calm.
“What, may I ask, are you doing here?”
“Preparing to sleep, sweeting, and touching you.” His fingers ran lightly from her face down her throat and across the delicate bones of one shoulder. “Does this return memories, Rosaleen?”
It did, but the gentle touch of his hand made her tremble, and she was unable to speak.
She was as warm and soft beneath his fingers as Hugh had remembered her to be, and the stricken look in her eyes undid him.
“Yes,” he murmured, drawing closer. “Memories like this.”
His mouth closed over hers, and Hugh lost no time in pressing his tongue between her lips and into the welcoming warmth of her mouth. His arms enfolded her, careful of her healing back, and he pulled her against his painfully aroused body. She lay stiff and frightened for a long moment, and then, with a little cry, she gave way and set her arms around his neck.
“Yes, Rosaleen,” Hugh whispered, thrusting one leg between her thighs and drawing a moan from her lips. “Yes, love, like this. This is what we did with one another last night, and more. So much more. You’re remembering now, aren’t you, my sweet? You’re remembering the ways we pleasured one another.”
Rosaleen shook her head and tried to draw away from him. “No,” she murmured, unable to escape the heat of his hard body, of his mouth as it moved over her neck and shoulders, of his hands as they eagerly roamed her skin, pulling up her chemise and slipping beneath to caress her bare buttocks. He grasped her there, gently, holding her still as he rocked needily against her.
“No.” She pushed at him once more. “It was dreams. Dreams…”
“Not dreams, beautiful lady.” Hugh took one of her delicate hands and flattened it against his chest. “You touched me, and I touched you. Everywhere, love. Everywhere. Like this. Oh yes, little love, like this.” He kissed her again, deeply, and pressed her hand over his hot skin. “Remember, Rosaleen,” he commanded. “Remember the pleasure we gave one another. I didn’t take your maidenhead, but I gave you a sweet release, just as you gave me. You were so beautiful in my arms, so eager. I couldn’t help myself, darling. I couldn’t help myself.”
It was too much for Rosaleen, too overwhelming.
“Please, stop,” she begged. “Please, Hugh, don’t.”
She tugged frantically to make him release her hand, but Hugh was too lost in his passion to heed her. He dragged her hand down his body toward the place where he so desperately wanted her touch.
“Touch me, Rosaleen. Please, my beautiful sweet. Touch me with your soft little hands and take me to heaven, just as I shall take you.”
This was wrong, Rosaleen thought wildly, struggling. Wrong, wrong, wrong!
“No, Hugh! Oh God, don’t. Don’t”
He was so much stronger than she, and he was just drunk enough with both ale and passion to mistake her struggles and cries for pleasure. Gently but insistently, he wrapped Rosaleen’s fingers around him, and for just a moment Rosaleen stilled with the amazing shock of what a man felt like.
Then, frightened, overwhelmed and horrified at her lack of courage, she burst into tears.
Nothing else had penetrated Hugh’s passion-riddled brain until that moment, but her sudden tears worked on him like a bucketful of icy water. Shocked, he released her.
“Rosaleen! What—” He didn’t know what to think. One moment they’d been making sweet love and the next she was sobbing her heart out. “Did I—God’s feet, sweeting, did I hurt you? Your back? Did I…did I squeeze you too hard or…” He was at a loss, and Rosaleen only lay there, crying. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder and she shoved it away. “Please, Rosaleen,” he pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Rosaleen was in a fury such as she had never before known. Even her uncle, at his worst, had never enraged her so greatly. She stopped her tears just long enough to glare at the man hovering worriedly above her.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong, you lecherous beast! I’ve been molested by the greatest bastard in King Henry’s kingdom! That’s what’s wrong!”
Hugh was so shocked that he sat up, but not fast enough to avoid the stinging slap Rosaleen gave him as she shot out of the bed.
“Molested!” he shouted indignantly. “You were as eager as I, wench! Don’t try to deny it! And don’t you ever strike me again!”
“Strike you!” she screeched. “Strike you! By, God, Hugh Caldwell, I’ll do more than strike you! I’m no tavern whore to be tumbled whenever you please! I’m a lady, you spawn of Satan! A lady!” She picked up a pillow and began to hit him with it, hard and repeatedly, while she continued raging.
“You-” whack! “—bastard! I’ll—” whack! “-teach you to—” whack! “—touch a lady in such a—” whack!
“—crude manner! You—” whack! “—beast!”
Hugh held his arms up to counter her blows.
“Dammit, Rosaleen! Cease this!” Whack! “I said cease!” whack! “Cease or I’ll—” whack! “—turn you over my—” whack! “—knee!”
“I’d like to see you—” whack! “—do it, you rutting boar!” Whack! “Better men than you—” whack! “—have tried to tame me, you hound from hell—” whack! “—but I’ll bow my knee to no man—” whack! “—save the king—” whack! “—you randy satyr!”
Something that sounded suspiciously like laughter drifted up to Rosaleen’s ears, and two long, muscular arms reached up to grasp her, despite her efforts with the pillow. Hugh got a good hold on her, then tossed her to the bed, flinging the pillow away and pinning her beneath his body.
Rosaleen fought him, freeing one hand to hit his rockhard chest. “Let me go, you lecherous goat! Let me go!”
Hugh was laughing so hard he could barely speak. “R-Rosaleen! D-don’t!” He burst into another storm of laughter. “Stop it! S-stop, my 1-lady!”
“Oh!” Rosaleen cried, outraged. “How dare you laugh at me, you foul ravisher! How dare you!” She drew up a fist and hit his solid chest again, hurting herself more than him. “I hate