Caroline a small measure of gratification. "You are a very blunt woman!"
"Yes, I am," she admitted, tilting her chin proudly. "I am blunt and bold and daring and intelligent, all the qualities you must abhor in a mate!"
He impaled her with his gaze. "How could you possibly know what I abhor or desire?"
"You wanted a girl and you got a woman! You wanted someone you could bully and frighten with your blustering and your—your..."
Her words trailed off, and she backed away as he moved slowly toward her until her back was against the stone table. Standing close to her, their bodies nearly touching, he leaned over her menacingly, forcing her to bend backward to avoid contact with him.
"And I don't frighten you?"
"No." She averted her gaze from the violence in his blue eyes, gasping for breath as the very air turned thick with tension like the stillness before a violent thunderstorm.
"Not in the least?" Heat radiated from his body; his warm breath stirred the wayward tendrils of hair at her temple.
"No." Her trembling voice belied the word.
"Then perhaps you aren't as intelligent as I'd thought. You see, I know a great deal about inflicting pain." He touched a callused finger to her chin and she recoiled as if she'd been burned, her heart pounding ferociously.
He wouldn't really hurt her, she tried to assure herself, but the very threat was enough to fill her soul with fear.
"I learned from a master," he went on, his voice soft, mesmerizing. "I know your every vulnerability. I know how to make you beg for mercy. You have no idea—"
"Stop it." Her throat constricted around the words as a genuine fear shivered down her spine. He could easily hurt her. His size alone was daunting, even if she hadn't seen the corded muscles that rippled beneath his skin. He could crush the life from her with his bare hands.
"Pain is a different sensation for women than for men. Certain parts of the body and mind are more susceptible."
"Stop. Please." Tears threatened her control. A part of her, the small part not immersed in fear, almost pitied him. Had he survived the pain of his youth by hardening himself to suffering and learning to inflict pain himself? The thought terrified her. She was very much alone, very much at his mercy, cut off from civilization by a thousand miles of river.
"Have I managed to frighten you now?" he asked tautly.
"Yes. Are you happy? Does it make you feel more like a man?"
Panting with anger and excitement, he moved closer to her, barely brushing her body with his. She placed a hand behind her to brace herself against the table. The other hand she pressed against his chest, pushing against him with all her strength, but he refused to yield. Instead, he twined a hand in her upswept hair and wrapped his other arm around her narrow waist, crushing her roughly against him as his mouth possessed hers in a bruising kiss.
This time she did fight him. She wedged both arms between their bodies and pushed desperately against his hard, implacable chest. He deepened the kiss, forcing her lips apart and assaulting the inner softness of her mouth with the lash of his tongue. Desire began to creep insidiously into her flesh and she stopped struggling and let her body fall against his as his hands moved to her buttocks and he pressed her soft loins against his hardness.
"Are you always so easily aroused?" he asked, releasing her abruptly so that she settled ungently onto her feet.
Caroline tensed at the harsh cruelty in his tone. Anger drove her to recklessness. She reached up, swinging out wildly, feeling the satisfying sting of her hand against his cheek.
Jason chuckled. "Leave it to my cousin to send me a whore for a wife."
"How dare you!" She swung out again, but this time he caught her wrist and held it fast. She tried to pull free of his grip, but he refused to release her.
"Whore or not, you are my wife," he reminded her. "And like everything else in this house, you belong to me. And my word is final here. You
"Yes, I am," she admitted, tilting her chin proudly. "I am blunt and bold and daring and intelligent, all the qualities you must abhor in a mate!"
He impaled her with his gaze. "How could you possibly know what I abhor or desire?"
"You wanted a girl and you got a woman! You wanted someone you could bully and frighten with your blustering and your—your..."
Her words trailed off, and she backed away as he moved slowly toward her until her back was against the stone table. Standing close to her, their bodies nearly touching, he leaned over her menacingly, forcing her to bend backward to avoid contact with him.
"And I don't frighten you?"
"No." She averted her gaze from the violence in his blue eyes, gasping for breath as the very air turned thick with tension like the stillness before a violent thunderstorm.
"Not in the least?" Heat radiated from his body; his warm breath stirred the wayward tendrils of hair at her temple.
"No." Her trembling voice belied the word.
"Then perhaps you aren't as intelligent as I'd thought. You see, I know a great deal about inflicting pain." He touched a callused finger to her chin and she recoiled as if she'd been burned, her heart pounding ferociously.
He wouldn't really hurt her, she tried to assure herself, but the very threat was enough to fill her soul with fear.
"I learned from a master," he went on, his voice soft, mesmerizing. "I know your every vulnerability. I know how to make you beg for mercy. You have no idea—"
"Stop it." Her throat constricted around the words as a genuine fear shivered down her spine. He could easily hurt her. His size alone was daunting, even if she hadn't seen the corded muscles that rippled beneath his skin. He could crush the life from her with his bare hands.
"Pain is a different sensation for women than for men. Certain parts of the body and mind are more susceptible."
"Stop. Please." Tears threatened her control. A part of her, the small part not immersed in fear, almost pitied him. Had he survived the pain of his youth by hardening himself to suffering and learning to inflict pain himself? The thought terrified her. She was very much alone, very much at his mercy, cut off from civilization by a thousand miles of river.
"Have I managed to frighten you now?" he asked tautly.
"Yes. Are you happy? Does it make you feel more like a man?"
Panting with anger and excitement, he moved closer to her, barely brushing her body with his. She placed a hand behind her to brace herself against the table. The other hand she pressed against his chest, pushing against him with all her strength, but he refused to yield. Instead, he twined a hand in her upswept hair and wrapped his other arm around her narrow waist, crushing her roughly against him as his mouth possessed hers in a bruising kiss.
This time she did fight him. She wedged both arms between their bodies and pushed desperately against his hard, implacable chest. He deepened the kiss, forcing her lips apart and assaulting the inner softness of her mouth with the lash of his tongue. Desire began to creep insidiously into her flesh and she stopped struggling and let her body fall against his as his hands moved to her buttocks and he pressed her soft loins against his hardness.
"Are you always so easily aroused?" he asked, releasing her abruptly so that she settled ungently onto her feet.
Caroline tensed at the harsh cruelty in his tone. Anger drove her to recklessness. She reached up, swinging out wildly, feeling the satisfying sting of her hand against his cheek.
Jason chuckled. "Leave it to my cousin to send me a whore for a wife."
"How dare you!" She swung out again, but this time he caught her wrist and held it fast. She tried to pull free of his grip, but he refused to release her.
"Whore or not, you are my wife," he reminded her. "And like everything else in this house, you belong to me. And my word is final here. You
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