The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(5)

“And what about duty? Honor?” she demanded to know.

Reuben shrugged. “Ah, yes, those things. I think I had them once. Lost them about five years ago and can't say I particularly miss them. Bothersome, they are.”

“But you're a knight,” she repeated stubbornly.

“A robber knight,” he corrected. “I rob from the rich to give to myself. It's a very nice arrangement. So, if Milady could please hand me her purse now, we can both go our separate ways.”

He held out his left hand, demandingly, and fully expected to hear the jingle of coins.

Instead, the girl suddenly ducked and urged her horse onward, trying to circumvent him on the narrow forest path.

What the…She was trying to get away! The little vixen!

With lightning speed, Reuben drew his sword and swung it around. It came to a stop only half an inch from the girl's slender, white throat. Rider and horse froze, both apparently sensing the danger. Thoughtfully, Reuben moved the blade a bit, pushing aside her long, golden hair. It made a nice contrast against the silver gleam of the steel. He hoped it wouldn't be necessary to add red to the colorful mixture.

“You,” he said pleasantly, “are either very brave or very foolish. Considering that you're a female, I would presume the latter. Perhaps I didn't make myself clear, girl. Give me your money—now!”

She seemed to recognize the steely resolve in his voice. Her gaze flickered between the blade at her neck and his eyes. Her intense blue-eyed stare was disconcerting. Reuben had the sudden, inexplicable urge to blink. But he made himself focus and returned her stare with all the merciless determination he could muster—which was quite a lot.

She took time to make up her mind, nevertheless. Reuben started wondering again what was the matter with the girl. Was she stingy enough to prefer parting with her head to parting with her purse? Or was she just stubborn to the point of insanity?

Finally, when he had almost decided to give her a little prick with the sword, just to make it clear to her that it was sharp and very ready to fulfill its purpose, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a purse—an astonishingly simple model. Not one of those frilly satin and lace things rich ladies mostly carried around, but a simple leather pouch.

“Here,” she said contemptuously, throwing her purse in Reuben's direction as if she wished it were a deadly missile. “May you choke on it!”

Reuben caught the purse easily with his left hand and heard the welcome jingle of coins. Finally!

“Thank you,” he said, with a bow he tried to make as mocking as possible. “And now, get off your horse.”

“What?!”

He sighed. Did the wench have wax in her ears or something? “And we were doing so well. Girl, I'm robbing you. That means I take everything I want. Get off your horse.”

She stiffened, and her gaze hardened.

“If you think you can intimidate me, you villain, you are very much mistaken! I may have given you my money, but the only way you'll get me off this horse is if you drag me down forcibly.”

The girl raised her chin, obviously convinced she had gained a complete victory over her adversary. Ha! He would show her.

Sighing, he swung off his horse. “Oh well, if you insist…”

Surprised, she blinked and stared down at him. “What do you mean, 'If I insist'? I don't under…” Her voice dwindled as he took two long strides towards her and reached up.

“Oh no!” She wagged her finger at him as if he were an annoying four-year-old trying to get a cookie out of her. “You will not do that, Sir! You cannot be so lost to honor as to defile me! You cannot mean to manhandle a maiden!”

“Well, no,” Reuben said, smiling behind his visor. “In fact, I mean to girlhandle her. To manhandle her, she'd need balls, wouldn't you agree?”

“How dare you speak to me in such a manner?”

“Oh, just like that.” He snapped his fingers and reached for her waist. “Although I do have to admit you do have balls, even if not in the literal sense. So perhaps I will manhandle you after all, what do you think?”

“I think you will not dare to touch me,” she told him, sternly. “You are a knight.”

“A robber knight,” he corrected once again. “I do what I want. I take what I want.” And with that, he reached up and grabbed the girl around her slender waist. She shrieked as he lifted her up into the air and started banging on his helmet.

“Stop that, will you?” he growled. “My head is no church bell! Do you know what a racket that is making in here?”

“Heel! Abominable villain!”

“Yes, yes, you said that before. Now will you stop?”

But she didn't stop. She continued to hammer on his helmet, struggle and kick. It was no easy business holding her around her waist while simultaneously trying to get her feet out of the stirrups. He had to use both hands to hold her, which only left his feet and elbows for the stirrup work. She wasn't making it any easier by fidgeting and locking her feet into the stirrups with the zeal of a tournament fighter.

Finally, he despaired of getting it done like that and let go of her waist with one hand in order to pull her foot out of the first stirrup. Yet he had misjudged his hold on her midriff, and suddenly, she slid down in his hold until his hand met with resistance. Suddenly, he wasn't holding her by the waist anymore but by the…