whatever childish fantasies she harbored for this
man were now tamped down in disgust...mostly, anyway.
The very suggestion that she, a lady of breeding, should be
any man's mistress was just as vile as marrying her
stepfather. Were all men truly this despicable? Not to mention
the fact that if he wanted her, he could have had her when she
presented the marriage contract to him. The only thing she
could work out in her head was that he wanted his freedom to
gallivant about with other women.
"I will not agree to those terms, you disgusting lecher. If
you wanted me so badly, you should have agreed to the
betrothal." She huffed.
Derrick was somewhat surprised by her response, but
quickly realized he shouldn't be. Whatever circumstances had
brought her to this cave, it wasn't to meet a lover. She was an
innocent, and he had just offended her. A soft smile played at
his lips. A hungry possession played at his nerves. He was
determined to possess her, by any means necessary.
“Either those terms, or we shall see how well you fare
with seven of my men to just yourself.”
“Have you no decency?!” She fairly screeched at him,
tears shining in her eyes. This whole ordeal was becoming
much more than she could bear.
Seeing her so close to tears, yet fighting them off,
caused a sensation in Derrick's chest he couldn't recall ever
feeling before. Not sure what the sensation meant, but
becoming angry with himself for putting her through such an
ordeal, he decided it was best to direct his anger at her.
“Hardly, madam.”
Kristen's small hope of him being a gentleman dashed,
she thought quickly. If she agreed to this ridiculous wager and
won, she would never have to see him again and her freedom
would be her own. If she lost, she would have to become his
mistress. Either scenario lead her away from her stepfather,
so perhaps it was worth considering. Even as a mistress, she
could buy a husband when the time came.
Honestly, she didn't care for that scenario at all, it being
just as disgusting as her stepfather's proposal. And, despite
her body's reaction to Derrick, she hated him for what he was
putting her through. What's worse, she could actually lose to
him. But, even if she didn't agree, her chances were slim
against seven men, especially after all of the energy she had
expended thus far. It was better to fight one man and at least
attempt to gain her freedom.
“I accept.” She whispered in fear.
“What was that?” He demanded coldly, not seriously
wanting to fight her, but knowing she would be going for blood.
“I accept.” She said more loudly and raised her head to
meet his gaze.
He could see the loathing in her eyes, and again he
wondered if he'd just made a terrible mistake.
“Good. I have only one condition before we begin.”
“And that would be?” She asked uneasily.
“No knife, m'dear. I don't want one as I'd prefer not to
mar your beautiful skin with a jagged edge; however, I do want
a fair fight.”
“This is hardly a fair fight.”
He merely shrugged, so she did the same. “Fine,
agreed.” She set the knife to the side, then turned to face him.
She lifted the edge of her skirts to tuck them inside her belt,
giving herself some leg room.
Derrick was momentarily mesmerized by the look of her
trim ankles and the lust he'd been battling all night came
raging to the forefront. He stepped toward her, merely to kiss
her, but she interpreted it as aggression. She hissed and
swung a punch that landed solidly across his jaw. He took
several steps back from her in stunned silence, and became a
little uneasy as he saw her crouch, preparing to attack again.
She could rival many of the men on his crew and those he'd
faced in other countries. Men trained for combat and to kill, yet
she put them to shame with her graceful movements.
Kristen was anxious to get out of the caves before any
more damage was done. As she looked around to figure out
her next move, she noticed a large crate to her right
man were now tamped down in disgust...mostly, anyway.
The very suggestion that she, a lady of breeding, should be
any man's mistress was just as vile as marrying her
stepfather. Were all men truly this despicable? Not to mention
the fact that if he wanted her, he could have had her when she
presented the marriage contract to him. The only thing she
could work out in her head was that he wanted his freedom to
gallivant about with other women.
"I will not agree to those terms, you disgusting lecher. If
you wanted me so badly, you should have agreed to the
betrothal." She huffed.
Derrick was somewhat surprised by her response, but
quickly realized he shouldn't be. Whatever circumstances had
brought her to this cave, it wasn't to meet a lover. She was an
innocent, and he had just offended her. A soft smile played at
his lips. A hungry possession played at his nerves. He was
determined to possess her, by any means necessary.
“Either those terms, or we shall see how well you fare
with seven of my men to just yourself.”
“Have you no decency?!” She fairly screeched at him,
tears shining in her eyes. This whole ordeal was becoming
much more than she could bear.
Seeing her so close to tears, yet fighting them off,
caused a sensation in Derrick's chest he couldn't recall ever
feeling before. Not sure what the sensation meant, but
becoming angry with himself for putting her through such an
ordeal, he decided it was best to direct his anger at her.
“Hardly, madam.”
Kristen's small hope of him being a gentleman dashed,
she thought quickly. If she agreed to this ridiculous wager and
won, she would never have to see him again and her freedom
would be her own. If she lost, she would have to become his
mistress. Either scenario lead her away from her stepfather,
so perhaps it was worth considering. Even as a mistress, she
could buy a husband when the time came.
Honestly, she didn't care for that scenario at all, it being
just as disgusting as her stepfather's proposal. And, despite
her body's reaction to Derrick, she hated him for what he was
putting her through. What's worse, she could actually lose to
him. But, even if she didn't agree, her chances were slim
against seven men, especially after all of the energy she had
expended thus far. It was better to fight one man and at least
attempt to gain her freedom.
“I accept.” She whispered in fear.
“What was that?” He demanded coldly, not seriously
wanting to fight her, but knowing she would be going for blood.
“I accept.” She said more loudly and raised her head to
meet his gaze.
He could see the loathing in her eyes, and again he
wondered if he'd just made a terrible mistake.
“Good. I have only one condition before we begin.”
“And that would be?” She asked uneasily.
“No knife, m'dear. I don't want one as I'd prefer not to
mar your beautiful skin with a jagged edge; however, I do want
a fair fight.”
“This is hardly a fair fight.”
He merely shrugged, so she did the same. “Fine,
agreed.” She set the knife to the side, then turned to face him.
She lifted the edge of her skirts to tuck them inside her belt,
giving herself some leg room.
Derrick was momentarily mesmerized by the look of her
trim ankles and the lust he'd been battling all night came
raging to the forefront. He stepped toward her, merely to kiss
her, but she interpreted it as aggression. She hissed and
swung a punch that landed solidly across his jaw. He took
several steps back from her in stunned silence, and became a
little uneasy as he saw her crouch, preparing to attack again.
She could rival many of the men on his crew and those he'd
faced in other countries. Men trained for combat and to kill, yet
she put them to shame with her graceful movements.
Kristen was anxious to get out of the caves before any
more damage was done. As she looked around to figure out
her next move, she noticed a large crate to her right
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