Page 24 of Bound By Deception

Nonetheless, even an obliging Maid of Albia would chafe at this bastard’s lack of manners.

Bree curled her hands into fists and let her fingernails bite into her palms. The pain steadied her, reminded her that, as tempting as it was, she couldn’t accept his refusal to lie with her. Mor hadn’t ordered her outright to couple with her husband, but the requirement had been unspoken. Marital intimacy would help lower his defenses. Many secrets had been told between lovers after a vigorous tumble.

Bile surged up, stinging the back of Bree’s throat. There was no getting away from it—as much as the thought turned her stomach, she was going to have to seduce him.

Jaw clenched, she unlaced her vest and slipped out of her pretty skirt. Meanwhile, the chief-enforcer had pulled a fur over him and turned toward the wall.

Glaring at his back, she pondered her next move. Although she usually slept naked, she was tempted to leave on her flimsy undertunic. Her mouth thinned as she smoothed her hands over the shift that reached mid-calf.It’s too late for modesty now,she reminded herself. Do what needs to be done.

Despite her husband’s terse announcement, she’d seen how his gaze dipped to her mouth a few times during the feasting earlier. She’d even caught him looking at her cleavage when she’d reached forward to help herself to some bread. He did his best to hide it—and hadn’t likely even admitted it to himself—but hewasattracted to her. And she knew instinctively that her boldness stoked it. The chief-enforcer had ordered a meek bride, but what he really wanted was a hellcat—a wild woman who’d rake her nails down his back.

But could she force herself to play this dangerous game?

Bree stripped off her undertunic so that she stood naked. Glancing down at herself, she observed her new body—with lush curves, large rose-tipped breasts, and fair skin scattered with freckles. It was a far cry from what she’d looked like before, but mac Brochan was drawn to this form, and she needed to find a way to fuel his desire.

Maybe … but not tonight.

Relief fluttered through her once more. She had a reprieve, even if it was a short one—time to come up with a plan.

A fire burned in the hearth, yet cool air feathered across her bare skin, and she shivered. Steeling herself, and doing her best to ignore the chill, she crossed to the alcove and climbed into the warm and soft furs. The sleeping nook was wide, and there was a mountain of bedding between Bree and her husband. As such, there wouldn’t be any accidental touching.

Lying on her back, staring up at the low stone ceiling, she willed sleep to come. However, it didn’t.

She was too tense.

I could kill him tonight.

Aye, she could slip from the furs while he slumbered, help herself to one of the blades on the wall, and stab mac Brochan between the shoulder blades. She’d enjoy it too. But no, instead of killing him, she had to find a way to make him talk.

A far more difficult task.

Bree squeezed her eyes shut, silently praying to the Great Raven for fortitude. She was going to need it.

12: TIME AND EFFORT

BREE SLEPT POORLY. As such, she was awake far earlier than the chief-enforcer.

Glancing over at her sleeping husband—cast in deep shadow, for the fire had died to a faint glow overnight—she frowned. Without a window to let in the light, she had no idea if dawn had broken outside. All the same, she sensed he’d get up soon and likely leave without disturbing her.

However, she intended todisturbhim, to give him a look at what he’d rejected the night before. Surely, it wouldn’t take much to make the chief-enforcer forget himself. After all, males were ruled by their rods.

Bree rolled out of the sleeping nook and padded naked over to the earthen bowl. Her stomach clenched then. She didn’t want to do this. She’d lain awake for most of the night,dreadingit.

She wasn’t a seductress.

She picked up a jug of water and poured it into the bowl, noting that her hands were shaky. Curse it, she couldn’t let her nerve fail her. Silently praying to the Great Raven for the guts to see this through, she helped herself to a cake of rough soap and began to wash.

Across the alcove, the fae hound stirred from its sheepskin. Sitting up, Skaal stretched her long body and then sat up, those golden eyes settling upon Bree.

And despite knowing it wasn’t wise, Bree stared back at the hound for an instant.Traitor.Fae hounds belonged to her world, not this one. The beast should be guarding a barrow, not sleeping in the chief-enforcer’s chamber.

Skaal gave a low growl then, the sound rumbling through the shadows, and Bree cut her attention away. It wasn’t a good idea to stare down a fae hound—and that wasn’t why she’d left the warmth of the furs.

Goosebumps pebbled her skin, and Bree clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. The water was icy, and the air inside this alcove was as cold as a tomb. Maybe this wasn’t her brightest idea. Right now, she felt as sensual as a plucked goose hung up on a butcher’s rack.

All the same, she deliberately lingered, waiting for the chief-enforcer to wake from his slumber. And eventually, when she was chilled to the marrow and reaching for a drying sheet, he did.

The whisper of the furs and the thud of his feet hitting the wood floor warned her that he was, indeed, awake.

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