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“Lock you up.”
Her heart did a painful leap, like a skydiver jumping off a cliff. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He shot her a peculiar glance as he drew a dark carved wood box from his ornate wardrobe. “Runaway wives ruin reputations.”
She cast a wary look at the wood box and then up into his face. His expression was blank, frighteningly so. “You don’t need to worry about my reputation. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s my reputation that concerns me.” He closed the wardrobe doors and turned toward her. The box in the crook of his arm was heavy enough to tense his forearm, muscles drawn, delineated, every part of him beautifully made.
“Just what is that?”
He shifted the box from his arm to the bed. “Instruments of my pleasure.”
“Very funny.” She stared uneasily at the lid of the box, the dark wood carved into fanciful designs; serpents encircling a tree, doves against a vine, the limbs of a man and woman intimately entwined. Not an innocent box. Not an innocent man.
“You think I’m joking?” His black hair gleaming in the candlelight.
Maybe not. He was seriously humor-impaired, but before she could say a thing, even as she touched the tip of her tongue to her rapidly drying upper lip, he snapped the lid open, revealing the contents.
Bright gold gleamed against scarlet silk.
Bryn blinked. Thick gold bands nestled against blood-red silk. Her heart did a second, but equally painful jump. What were those? What was Kahlil planning to do?
As he leaned forward, lifting the gold bangles from the box, his robe shifted, revealing more of the hard planes of his chest, the muscles taut beneath the gleam of skin. She could just catch a whiff of the sandalwood fragrance he wore, exotic, spicy, erotic. Heat flooded her veins, her body craving his.
But the rush of desire died a quick death when Kahlil opened one of the gold bangles and snapped it shut around her slim wrist.
“You’re handcuffing me?” Her voice rose to a fevered pitch. Just who the hell did he think he was?
“I’ll do what I have to do.”
“This in unacceptable, Kahlil, even from you.” She tried to shake off the band but he’d secured it tightly, clasping it on one of the smallest locks. It pinched, too, not terribly, but just enough to remind her she was trapped.
Furious, she shook her arm again. The blasted handcuff weighed at least a pound. Had to be solid gold. No other reason for it to be so heavy.
“I had to curtail your wanderlust.”
“I just wanted to see Ben.”
Utterly remorseless, he opened the second gold band, this connected to the one on her wrist by a long, thick gold chain. “And I’d already told you no. What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”
Tears started to her eyes, tears of shame and anger. “The part where you tell me to jump and I’m expected to do your bidding.” She jerked on the chain, nearly pulling the second handcuff from his hold. “Do you enjoy degrading women?”
“Of course not, but I enjoy peace of mind, and you, woman, give me none.” He snapped the second handcuff to his own wrist, linking them together.
She’d expected him to shackle her to the bed. It hadn’t crossed her mind he’d lock her to him. She stared at the three-foot gold chain in alarm. Tethered. Trapped. His prisoner.
Could the punishment be worse? “I’m not going to spend the night locked up like a criminal!”
“You’re lucky I haven’t had you arrested. The thought has crossed my mind. Several times.”
“I haven’t broken any laws.”
“Any? Try a half dozen. You’d be treated harshly in our court, too. We don’t look kindly on rebellious women.”
“So send me to prison. Explain that to Ben!”
“I wouldn’t have to tell Ben you went to prison. I could always say you chose to leave. You wanted to go home, and so you did.”
“Leaving him here, without me?”
Kahlil shrugged, tightened the second shackle, and tugged on the heavy gold chain. Bryn fell forward, at the mercy of Kahlil’s whim. “Mothers are human. They make mistakes. Change their minds. Run from responsibility all the time.”
“Not me.”
He shrugged again. “To tell you the truth, Bryn, I don’t really care. I’ve been up over forty-eight hours without sleep, crossed the Atlantic twice, saved you from an imprudent wedding, discovered a son. I’m tired. I just want sleep.”
“I’d rather be thrown into a pit of vipers!”
An eyebrow lifted. “How melodramatic, even from you.”
She changed her approach, gentled her tone. She had to make him see reason. “Kahlil, you know I’m a light sleeper. How can I rest like this?”
“That’s your problem, not mine. You should have thought about the consequences before you snuck out of the harem. However, what’s done is done and now we’ll go to bed.”
“I will not sleep with you.”
“Bryn, you are trying my patience. Can’t you see I am doing my best to take care of you?”
She tugged furiously on the chain linking them. “This is your idea of taking care of me? My God, you aren’t fit to be a father!”
His expression suddenly darkened, brows lowering, his features hard and cold. She’d struck a nerve. Oh, how she’d struck a nerve!
“If you want to live to see the morning, I’d lie down, and be very, very quiet. I’m tired of you making a fool out of me. I need sleep. You need supervision. I’m sorry I’m forced to treat you like a farm animal, but this is the only solution I can think of.”
“A farm animal! I’ll show you a farm animal—” She broke off to give the chain a violent yank. His arm didn’t even move. He didn’t even wobble. She pulled harder, with every bit of her strength, fighting to knock him off balance but Kahlil didn’t budge. He simply stood there, immobile, allowing himself the smallest smile of pleasure.
Damn his six-foot-three-inch body. Damn his immense shoulders and solid thighs. Damn the muscles and skin and his incredible warm, spicy scent. “I hate you!”
He smiled, all teeth. “The feeling is mutual, darling. So go to bed and save us both another scene.” And with that, he tossed back the velvet comforter, revealing dark gold satin sheets and practically threw her into bed.
Then he stripped—stripped!—peeling his white cotton trousers off his lean hips and shrugging out of the white robe.
The gold chain linking them jingled as he slid into bed next t
o her, the mattress giving slightly, satin sheets cool and smooth against her heated skin.
“Do you have to sleep naked?” she gritted, trying to block out the image of his large body stretched carelessly next to hers.
He rolled to his side, the chain between them momentarily tightening, the gold satin sheet sliding low on his waist, emphasizing his deep chest and wide shoulders. “We’re married. This is about as sexless as it gets.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. “What about the candles? Aren’t you going to blow them out?”
“Not tonight. I’m going to need them to keep an eye on you. Besides, they’ll burn out eventually. Close to morning.” He reached out, touched a long silvery-blond strand of hair. “And Bryn, you won’t be able to break this chain. Don’t try. It’ll just be a waste of energy.”
She glanced at the gold chain stretched between them, still shocked he’d actually handcuff her to him. What kind of man handcuffs a woman? A medieval man. That’s the kind of man, she answered herself darkly. And a man without the least bit of modesty. How could he climb into bed with her without a scrap of clothing on? For heaven’s sake, the satin sheet revealed far more than it hid, outlining the hard, carved planes of his body.
“If this is the way you hope to win me over, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”
He shrugged in the semidarkness, candlelight dancing across the plastered wall, creating patterns on the stone floor. “I don’t need to win you over. I already own you.”
He touched her again, this time brushing her shoulder with the tip of his finger, his fingertip gliding across her heated skin. Bryn felt a ball of desire coil in her belly, the hunger so strong it sent a rush of blood between her thighs.
“Three years I’ve waited for you,” he continued softly. “Three years. You don’t think I’m going to let you escape now?”
“Loving someone isn’t about possession!”
His fingertip found her breast, slowly circled the budding nipple. “Who said anything about love? I’m thinking retribution.” He tweaked her pert nipple, not gently, and she gasped. “Now sleep. I’m tired. You’ve made it a very long day.” And with that he rolled over and closed his eyes. Within minutes his breathing changed, indicating he had really, truly fallen asleep.
