Page 116 of Desire's Ransom
“Yourinar.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “My what?”
For a moment, she couldn’t remember. “Your haub-…surc-…” She poked at the garment with thebataand then finished triumphantly. “Your surcoat. Give me your surcoat.”
He gathered up his long green wool surcoat and tugged it off over his head.
She took it from him, threw it aside, and tapped thebataagainst her lip, considering what she wanted next. “I’ll take that…that…” She waved thebataat his undershirt.
“Not my tunic? Are you sure, lass?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m not wearing anything beneath it.”
“Oh, I know,” she assured him.
He fought back a grin and peeled the white linen tunic off, exposing his broad shoulders, his powerful chest, and the ridged muscles of his stomach below.
She felt the familiar ache of lust pulsing between her thighs. But she refused to surrender to her desires yet.
“Yourchausses,” she demanded, fixing her gaze on the tie that held them up at his hips.
“Interesting.” Staring at her with hunger in his eyes, he pulled the tie slowly loose. “You’ve no trouble remembering the name of those.”
Her cheeks flushed as she watched him slide the brown woolenchaussesoff—taking out one towering leg, then the other—and dropping them on the floor.
Her voice came out on a breathless whisper, “Now yourbraies.”
He crossed his arms boldly over his chest. “Nay.” His lips curved up in a wicked, willful smile.
She blinked in surprise. “What do ye mean, ‘nay’?” Was he ceding the battle?
“I mean nay,” he said. “I won’t do it.”
“Why?”
“Because, outlaw, if you intend to rob me of my last stitch of clothing, you’ll have to come take it yourself.”
Temair bit the inside of her cheek. He was a clever knave. He knew that once she came close, she wouldn’t be able to resist him.
Still, she couldn’t back down from his challenge.
Clinging to thebataas if it would somehow protect her, she crept forward to do the deed.
He made no move to help or hinder her. Instead, he watched her with a smoldering gaze and a smug half-grin.
With one trembling hand, she awkwardly untied the knot securing hisbraies.When they dropped to the floor, she saw that he was already primed and ready, like a beast about to charge. She inhaled sharply.
“Now you,” he murmured.
She frowned and shook her head.
In the blink of an eye, he snatched thebatafrom her hand, spun it, and set it at her throat. “Now you,” he repeated.
Her eyes wide, she could only sputter. “How did ye…that’s not f-…bloody…”
“Yourbrat, wench,” he demanded.
“Shite.” Her breast heaved as she averted her gaze and unfastened her brooch. The scarletbratdropped to the floor, but with thebataat her throat, she couldn’t bend forward to pick it up.
“Now, outlaw,” he said, licking his lips, “I want to take a peek at those lovely toes.”
