Subjugate me through seduction?” Sorcha asked breathlessly, squeezing past him and moving out of the kitchen and into the larger living area. Much-needed space. Distance from him. Outside, the wind howled, gaining force. Snow fell past the living room window in thick, white sheets. He stared after her with a hungry look in his eyes. The way she had prayed for him to look at her as a girl, so that he might sweep her off her feet and run away with her. That had been an especially favorite fantasy following any unpleasant encounters with her father. A foul taste coated her mouth. Yes, she’d come a long way from those days. She was not about to go back. He shrugged one shoulder. “I’d hardly call it subjugation.” “No? What would you call it? Rape?” His head jerked back, eyes changing, glittering like ice, colder than the arctic winds outside. “Don’t be dramatic. We are what we are.” He flipped a hand in the air. “I’m only saying that there are more enjoyable ways to spend our time than fighting, Sorcha.”
