Page 240 of The Daughters of Avalon
Squeezing the key in his hand, he realized that wedding Rhiannon per force would not gain him what he truly desired…
Her heart.
Alas, he must confess: He had loved Nesta dearly. He’d adored her sweet, kind heart, and he’d valued her counsel, but he’d never hungered for her body… not the way he lusted after Rhiannon. Even now, despite their circumstances, his body trembled with desire, and he longed to push her back onto the bed and pillage all she had to give—all that he had been promised.
Only what then?
Then she would loathe him.
And yes, hecouldforce her to marry against her will, and hope to God that he could change her mind. But… after five long years of trying and failing, he had a feeling deep down… he would regret the decision for the rest of his days.
Even now, she glared at him as though she would plunge a dagger into his breast, and he believed in his heart that she would if she could—no matter how much he’d risked serving her. Knowing this, tendrils of anger clutched at his heart. Closing his fist about the key, he placed his hand behind his back, and with the other hand, he reached out to seize her wrist above the manacle, drawing her close, forcing her to endure his proximity if only once in her damnable life.
“Cael,” she protested.
Rhiannon swallowed.
For the first time since their meeting, the look in his eyes thoroughly disturbed her. There was something new and terriblein his demeanor that gave her pause—something angry and desperate.
“W-What are you doing?”
The sound of his voice was achingly low, filled with torment. “The time for games is done,” he said darkly, pulling her closer, and not gently. His arm slid about her waist, pulling her against him, so Rhiannon could feel the hard contours of his body. And even as he restrained her, she felt the evidence of his arousal. “Cael,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely certain it was a protest.
In that terrible, terrible instant, the shocking feel of him awakened something deep inside her that she’d hoped to deny—her nipples pebbled embarrassingly, puckering against his leathers and she swallowed convulsively. “Please…”
“If your mother has her way, you’ll soon be my bride.”
“Never!” she spat, with far more conviction than she felt.
In truth, had the situation been different, she might have welcomed a match with this man.
There was something about Cael d’Lucy that tripped her heart and fired her soul. Never in her life had she met a man who was so much a man—strong, and crude betimes, filled with surety. She lifted her chin defiantly and lied.
“No matter what you do or what you say, you’llneverforce me to love you.”
He laughed then, the sound mirthless. “Love?” he asked. “Love? What hasloveever had to do with a contract of marriage, Rhiannon?” His black eyes shone. “Do not mistake me, lady, there is onlyonewoman I haveeverloved, and she isnotyou.”
Rhiannon swallowed her words.Why did that bit of truth wound so deeply?
Like a chimera, his emotions morphed between hatred and… something else…
And regardless, despite the obvious disdain he felt for her in that instant, his gaze found her bed, and she noted the unbridled heat that crept into his storm-ridden eyes. Her voice faltered. “C-Cael… w-what do you mean to do?”
In all these years, he’d never even once given her a reason to fear him. Oh, she understood well enough why men cowed before the lord of Blackwood; there was a certain darkness that permeated every room he entered. No less so than any Pendragon before him, he was a dragon lord, inscrutable and cunning, treacherous and exacting. This was one thing Rhiannon never, ever dared to forget. And yet, despite this, though he lusted for her body, he’d never once acted upon his desires, and, yes, she knew—had always known—this was all it ever was for him: a man’s lust.
She reminded herself that there was a good reason he’d never caved to her mother’s demands.
She must not fool herself into believing this man held any measure of affection for her, even if betimes he did look at her with such incredible longing that her flesh prickled beneath his gaze—the way he was looking at her right now.
He inhaled a slow breath, then let it out, as though trying to master his rage.
Was it rage?
Or was it pain?
He said calmly, but angrily, “Once your mother arrives, youwilljoin me in the chapel for our much-delayed nuptials?—”
“Never!” she cried. “I will not!”
