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“You think I’m not respectful? I think I am.” He threw her wrists down. “To prove it, I’ll give you one day. Think over what you truly want in life. What is actually attainable for you now in your situation. Give me what is mine and I keep my mouth shut. Or don’t, and I tell him the truth and ruin you in his eyes. It’s your choice.” He took another step backward, his head nodding. “But I do imagine, either way, you’ll end up in my bed at the dower house, Karta.”
“You don’t have a bed at the dower house, George.”
A smirk snaked onto his lips. “I do now. One way or another.”
He left the room, the sickening stench of his pomade wafting out in the air behind him.
{ Chapter 12 }
Foregoing knocking, Domnall opened the door of the Leviton dower house and peeked his head inside.
Silence.
For the quiet stillness, he wouldn’t have believed Karta had come back here again if not for one of his horses from Kirkmere resting in the stable. She had left the saddle on her mare, which told him she didn’t plan to stay at the dower house for an extended period of time.
Or so he hoped.
He liked her under his roof. Safe. In a place where the leering looks of that idiot stepson of hers would be stomped into oblivion before they became action.
Domnall stepped into the foyer from the quiet air of the morning and quickly walked down the center hall of the house. All the rooms were empty. A floorboard creaked above him and he reversed course and went up the stairs.
He pushed the door to Karta’s room wide open, only to find the top of her body buried deep in the wardrobe in the far corner of the room.
She’d already changed into a delightful plum concoction that draped over her curves far too enticingly. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her backside shift about for a long moment. Selfish ogling, but he wasn’t about to apologize for it. “It’s Christmas day. What are ye doing here, Karta?”
She jumped with a squeak and spun to him, her hand flat on her chest. “Dom. Blast your damn stealth.” The words came with a screech.
“Apologies.” He couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “What are ye doing here, Karta?”
She pointed over her shoulder. “I actually did need some clothing to change into, since my valise that you brought back with us only contained a pillow.”
He shrugged with a grin. “It was the closest thing to snatch when I was up here. It took me too long to find the bag, so I grabbed the first thing I could find to plump it up. I wasn’t about to leave ye alone with Lord Leviton for a moment longer than necessary.”
A grin lifted her cheeks. “I presumed as much.”
“Ye scared me when I couldn’t find you in the abbey, what with Leviton lurking about. Ye could have sent me for your items—or Rory could have come.”
She shrugged. “There wasn’t a need. I saw Colin take George out for hunting and I thought it was a good time to escape.”
“Escape from me or escape from him?”
“Him.” A crooked smile crossed her lips and her look shifted to the side wall. “And maybe you.”
He straightened, his fingers curling into fists. “That bastard wants exactly what I think he wants from you, doesn’t he?”
She inhaled, her chest lifting high as her eyes met his. She nodded. “Yes.”
He turned and his fist smashed into the frame of the door. Instant and ferocious. His arm flying before the slightest consideration of control could spark in his brain.
Pain shocked up his arm.
Worth it.
Worth every sharp twinge quaking along his bones.
“Dom.” Her breathless word floated through the air thick with rage surrounding him.
The fear in the word—fear for him, not for herself—filtered in through the red that had just flooded his mind and he shook his head. Shook sanity back into his brain.
