A Knight and White Satin. Jackie Ivie

That was going to be difficult. Payton sucked in on both cheeks as he looked at it. He was called the King’s Champion. He wasn’t letting a door be the thing that exposed him for the fraud he was.

      He leaned forward and pushed and felt the wood give just slightly. That was a good sign. The keep had suffered moisture damage and that would give him just the edge he needed. The hall’s width accommodated four steps. Payton lowered his shoulder and heaved at her door.

      She didn’t have it barred.

      His blow shook the jamb, but it held. It groaned with the attack, however. The door wasn’t far behind, as a heavy thunderous cracking noise accompanied the split that opened right in the center of it, sending large chunks of wood, a cloud of dust, and a blizzard of little slivers into her room with him at the midst of the destruction. Payton was actually amazed he kept his feet, although he had to spin fully and that left him open the entire time to any attack.

      Vulnerable. She made him that. And frightened, and defamed, and weak. Always. Just her. He had his breath held until he finished a full circle and spotted her. Where she was had him raising his brows and lowering his head. She’d leapt onto her mattress and was well above him, holding a large swath of white material against the front of her, and she was wet. At least, her hair was wet. It was sticking to her flesh and showing the length of it as it caressed the curve of her hip. She had a rather shapely hip, too. He hadn’t noted that before.

      He tipped his head a fraction and craned his neck in order to see it more fully. She made a half-turn away, to shield herself. White material moved with it. Payton took three steps to his left and craned his neck again. She swiveled with the movement and the satin moved with that motion as well. He had his lips pursed before he moved his gaze to hers.

      She didn’t look cowed. Far from it. She looked determined. She also wasn’t as plain as he’d assigned her. That was a pleasant thought. Payton stood to his full height, crossed his arms and regarded her. The dust from his entrance was almost settled, and the remnants wavered in the air with flecks of glint.

      “What do you want?” she asked.

      He cleared his throat. It was to cover any nervousness. “The same thing I wanted three years past,” he replied finally. He had his heartbeat under control as well, for nothing about his voice gave him away. The satisfaction went deep. He had control of his fraud even in her presence. He felt the cooling sensation in the depth of his gut. He didn’t give any outward sign to any of it.

      She gasped.

      “And mayhap…more,” he finished.

      She was going a nice rose shade, and it suffused her skin, until the material had the same pink shading where it got to caress her skin. Payton licked his lower lip as she pulled the material tighter.

      “Nae,” she replied.

      “Strange, but I’m na’ at all surprised to hear you say that,” he said.

      “Dinna’ you understand the word nae?”

      He nodded slightly. “Verra well actually. I just doona’ accept it.”

      “You’re na’ welcome in here.”

      “I was never welcome. What of it?” he shrugged.

      “You dinna’ even knock!”

      “You barred me and yon door was na’ crafted well. It dinna’ withstand the slight touch of my knock.”

      She looked skeptical, and not much else. “I’m na’ ready,” she said finally.

      Payton looked her over. She was watching for his gaze when he’d finished. “You look ready,” he replied.

      “You dinna’ even recognize me!” She put the slightest emphasis on the words, and then she colored. If Payton wasn’t mistaken, it bothered her greatly.

      “There are parts of you that I definitely recognize, my lady. Definitely.” He knew she had his meaning as she pulled the material even closer to her body. Which wasn’t doing much to mute the fact that she had a spectacular form: large round hips, slender waist…. He hadn’t known that.

      “Doona’ come one step closer!”

      Payton had moved his right foot. He halted at her command. There was a shrill sound behind her words. He’d heard it before. He actually recognized it. It sounded like actual fear. He shook it off and moved his other foot. She backed to the wall and gave a gasp as her nakedness came into contact with the stone. It also made certain things happen behind the sheet she had held to her so tightly that it defined more than it covered.

      That was visual, he decided. She had twin crests at her breasts, and they were a healthy size. He remembered her bosom. Payton had to turn his head to hide the expression. He couldn’t do anything about the rest of his body. He was only grateful he was wearing woolen trews beneath his feile-breacan. Scratchy and warm. And thick. All of which was a good thing at the moment.

      “Three years ago you stopped me with a slip of a skean. You verra nearly did what nae man has. I still bear the scar.”

      “You were forcing me!”

      “What of it? Women get forced. Especially women that have been taken in battle.” He took another step. She pushed farther back into the wall. Her movement made him stop. He didn’t want her cowed and beaten and he didn’t know why.

      “But I never accepted you!”

      Payton blew the snort through his lips, making a sound like the neigh of his horse. “You did more than agree, lady. By keeping silent, you’ve more than accepted me as husband. And then you added to it by taking my gold, abusing my keep, and doing naught a good wife should.”

      “Perhaps you should have been a good husband, then,” she retorted.

      “My thoughts exactly. We’ve reached accord. Already. This bodes well.” He was teasing as he hooked his thumbs under the fastening of his belt. He had a heavy, real silver buckle that the Stewart had crafted especially for his champion. It had a weight and rigidity to it that any other belt wouldn’t have achieved. He watched her eyes flit there and then back to his face.

      “What…are you going to do?” she asked.

      “Whatever I want.” The rush of power hit the region about his nose and flared there, making a sting for a moment. Payton shook his head slightly. All these years he’d dreaded being face-to-face with her, and having her reduce him to boyish incompetence—and it was for this? Strangely, he didn’t like the sensation. He didn’t want her beaten, and he didn’t want her submissive. But he did want her.

      Chapter 3

      If he didn’t cease looking at her like prey she was going to scream, which would be stupid, and cowardly besides. Dallis narrowed her eyes, muting some of the brunt of his physical presence. She’d had nightmares of coming into contact with him again and thought herself prepared…for his size, his bulk…his presence. She knew now she’d been fooling herself. There was no way to prepare for such!

      He had an even greater impact than he’d had before, if that was possible, and there was a sureness to him that must have been lacking. He had a litheness to his movements, even the one where he’d twirled through the broken door had been done with a sure-footed grace that made it look melodic and elegant. She swallowed but it was more a gulp. He was very handsome, very manly, truly eye-catching, and he looked immensely powerful. It was a shame he was so base-born. A Caruth would never accept a Dunn-Fadden as their mate. Never had. Never would.

      Had he been her betrothed, how different everything would be!

      She could see that no matter how much gold she’d sent to pay for a challenger against him it was wasted. She should have spent it on other methods that would have gained her freedom and given her back her power in one fell swoop…something like poison.

      Her eyes narrowed.

      “You readied yet?” he asked.

      Dallis’s