LITMIR.BIZ

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himself he knocked on the door, only to be greeted with silence. For a second he hesitated, but impatience won out in the end. His need to get this first meeting over with was too great to dally in a cold hall on a lady’s whim.

      He pushed open the door.

      After the dimness of the hall he was blinded by the brightness of the full sun in the chamber. It was seconds before he could make out the figure on the other side of the room.

      When his eyes adjusted, his heart almost stopped. She had stepped forward, and unknowingly revealed to him every exquisite detail. It was like an angel had stepped down from heaven.

      Her long black hair hung in waves around her, glowing in the sunlight like an aura. It framed her gracefully, outlining her tiny waist, the gentle flair of her hips, the lushness of her breasts.

      Her skin shone a pale ivory, splashed with the redness of her perfectly formed lips and the deep glow from her brown eyes. They were eyes that a man could drown in and never regret the demise.

      She stood straight and proud, but still she would reach only his chin. He felt suddenly large and clumsy before her, felt unworthy to see such ethereal, unworldly beauty. A beauty that produced a very earthy reaction through his body. He could feel that reaction in the tightening of his loins, in the pounding of his heart, in the air that suddenly rushed into his deflated lungs, making him almost light-headed.

      For the first time in his life he was totally struck dumb and when his mind finally kicked back in, all he could manage was to hoarsely say, “My God, you’re perfect!”

      Chapter Two

      She let out a shrill peal of laughter. The hollow sound hung heavy in the air.

      She instinctively closed her eyes, wishing the laughter away. She wished she hadn’t given vent to the hysteria she could feel rising from her stomach, but somehow it was a force that could not be denied. The absurdity was just too great.

      He saw perfection. She couldn’t see at all.

      His deep, strong voice created pictures for her, but she could not see him, couldn’t tell what kind of man he was, whether he came to her dressed for war or wooing. She couldn’t even see to run away from him.

      A shiver ran down her spine. It was a creeping disadvantage. She longed to hide, and felt vulnerable when she knew she couldn’t.

      Roger’s dark whispers rose up to taunt her. Robert had both the strength and the determination to devote his life to one goal. He was here to claim his reward from the king, and she doubted that he would allow her to hide, but it wasn’t the king that she was afraid of. No, this was all Roger’s dark game, for all it had a royal disguise.

      If Robert Beaumont was part of Roger’s plans, then he must be her enemy, and an enemy that you couldn’t see was a very dangerous foe indeed.

      Fear squeezed her throat. She wanted to scream, to yell freedom, to fight and claw her way out of the dark, out of this man-filled room, out of her life.

      She wished wildly for a moment that she was indeed so hideously deformed that the dismembered voice would run screaming from her, and leave her to her fears.

      It wasn’t going to be that simple, Imogen realized sinkingly. This was Roger’s game. It had to be played out, and she could only hope that when the time for the ending came she had the strength to fight.

      She walked stiffly to the chair two paces in front of her and sat down on the edge, clasping her hands tightly. For a second the man seemed to pause indecisively, and then he pulled back the other chair gratingly and sat down heavily.

      A big man, Imogen mused. A man whose knees didn’t fit in the space she had left between the chair and the footstool, a man who made her solidly built furniture groan.

      She had never really thought about his physical proportions, but a knight would have to be big, strong. Small men did not kill easily. Roger had never had the body mass to be a true knight. He couldn’t bring down a man with one swing of a sword, couldn’t physically control those around him. No, he had to use the more subtle method of fear and isolation. This man he had sent to her won through sheer bulk.

      It was hard to say which she found the most horrifying at the moment. Perhaps that was why Roger had chosen him. Robert was a physical threat that he couldn’t make himself. Roger could torture her with his little games, but this man could crush her with one hand.

      She mentally shook herself. There were smaller things to be concerned about here, like returning the chair to its spot if she wanted to avoid yet another bruise.

      “I’m sorry for my rude silence, Lady Imogen,” Robert said slowly, “but you aren’t quite what I had been led to expect.”

      He was trying desperately not to stare like some callow youth, and hoping against hope that she wouldn’t notice the red heat that had risen and swamped his face.

      She smiled bitterly. “Surprise must be one of the downsides of buying without first checking the stock.”

      He went absolutely rigid. He had expected politeness, been prepared for patronizing, but he hadn’t ever thought that she would be openly rude. That wasn’t his understanding of how ladies acted.

      His first instinct was to return like for like, but some part of his mind whispered about the vulnerability that lay beneath those bitter words and held him in check.

      That part of him understood it very well. It was the reaction of a wounded animal to lash out wildly. Instead of getting in range of the claws, he knew it was better to wait till the fear and pain had played itself out.

      “I don’t think of you as purchased,” he said tightly, “and I would prefer it if you also refrain from such merchant talk.”

      “I apologize.” She raised her chin an inch. “You are right, of course. I wasn’t purchased. It was my land you were bargaining for. I’m just the sting in the tail: the catch at the end of the bargain. It must be depressing to finally have your Keep, but to also have to take possession of Lady Deformed as well.”

      She smiled at him silkily. “And what a very brave knight you must be to accept a bargain that binds you in marriage to Lady Deformed.”

      His lips tightened, and he held his temper with the greatest difficulty. “I do not care for that name, and I will not have it mentioned again.”

      “What? ‘Lady Deformed’? That would be too harsh, Sir Knight. The poor women who look after the Keep lead such dreary lives that they have little else to talk of. Who are we to deprive them of such small pleasures?”

      “If their pleasures interfere with my honor, then I’m afraid I will have them stopped.” He leaned closer, trying to catch her gaze, but she stared resolutely over his shoulder. “Besides, I see no need for the name. I can see no imperfection to warrant such harshness.”

      Her hands gripped more tightly to each other, her nails drawing blood.

      He hadn’t noticed! It seemed incredible to her, the darkness too evident to be hidden.

      Perhaps he was attempting gallantry. Perhaps…but it didn’t make sense any way she shifted it about. Her brother hadn’t sent her a lover. He had sent her a punishment, and punishments didn’t entice with honeyed words. No, they pulled you apart piece by piece.

      There had to be some deeper game being played here, some tactical reason for claiming her imperfections invisible.

      Maybe he wanted to hear her declare her deformity. Maybe he was like her brother and enjoyed making her destroy herself. It had always made Roger feel like he was stronger than a god when he had brought her to her knees.

      She tightened her jaw. She was not ready to play dead for this man yet. “Knight, I’ve no patience for idle flattery. My deformities are plain for all to see and I will not be mocked. Our marriage may give the rights to my land and my body, but I will not give you my pride on a platter. So beware.”

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