Since she had awoken, he’d inhaled the fear, the shock and the disbelief emanating from her, and that was as he had expected. He wanted her to fear him. She needed to fear him and by the devil, if she had any sense at all, she’d forgo her inflated pride and beg for mercy. But now, as he prepared to lay her bare for his inspection, to punish her for his personal humiliation three years ago, her scent of primal terror splintered. Instead, anticipation drenched the candlelit chamber. Anticipation and anger threaded throughout the heady, intoxicating aroma of her arousal. “If you don’t untie me,” her voice was breathless, uneven, and stoked the glowing embers of his lust, “I shall lie here as if I’m dead.” He laughed, a shocking sound that echoed around the chamber, around his skull, and he clamped his lips together before another such involuntary weakness escaped. But amusement hummed through his brain at her choice of words, at the haughty look on her face, and the defiance shining in her beautiful dark eyes.
