The Wicked Heir (Spare Heirs #3)(87)

She turned toward him with a smile. “I’ve considered a life in the theater, but I think I prefer my own life at the moment.”

“You enjoy being my prisoner?” He turned the key in the lock and cut his eyes back at her, amusement shining in their depths.

“It has its benefits.”

“You’re fortunate, you know,” he mused as he pocketed the key and took a step in her direction. “I could have put you in chains in my dungeon if I chose to do so.”

“You have a dungeon beneath your home?” she asked as she sat up from her dramatic position with wide eyes. Why hadn’t he included that on the tour?

“Some believe so.”

“Really?” she asked, scooting to the edge of the bed with her gaze on him.

“On second thought, you sound a bit too excited by the prospect of being chained to a dungeon wall.”

“It would make for quite the ending to a story, if I were to ever tell anyone of my time here.”

He took another step toward her. “Do you want our story to come to an end?”

No. I don’t want it to ever end, her heart screamed, but she could hardly explain that to him without speaking of love. And they’d decided secrets were for tomorrow, not tonight. She licked her lips and looked down at her bare toes where they peeked out from the bottom of her day dress. “I’ll never be able to tell anyone about this, so it hardly matters.”

She glanced back up at Fallon to see something in his expression snap, as if a long-awaited decision had been made. She opened her mouth to ask if something was wrong, but he spoke first.

“On your feet, prisoner.”

“What?” Isabelle asked, confused at the sudden change in him. “Are we going back to the garden? Downstairs?”

“No. You’re a lady trapped in the tallest tower of a castle. You’re not going anywhere.”

Isabelle knew her smile must have covered half her face, and she giggled as she clambered to her feet. But a second later, she’d arranged her face to be that of a tortured lady. She squared her shoulders to Fallon, staring him down. “I only came here to save my family from harm. We had a bargain, sir. A bargain.”

He raised a brow in question at the story forming in her mind. Wrapping his hands around her arms, he said, “The terms of our agreement have changed, my lady. You shouldn’t have trusted me. I’m quite the wicked gentleman.”

Isabelle gasped and looked up at him. “What will you do with me? I only ask that you spare my life and release my family from captivity.”

“And if I’m so generous?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble as he watched her.

“I’ll stay here forever. I’ll be yours forever.” The raw honesty of her words hung between them for a moment. No matter the parts they played at the moment, at least that much was true.

Judging by the flash of emotion in his eyes, he knew she meant what she said. Yet it didn’t force him away this time. Instead he leaned closer to ask, “Will you? That is tempting, but you may regret that offer.” He lifted his hand to her jaw as if inspecting her. Then he slid his fingers down her throat and traced the line of her breastbone in a move that spoke of possession and hinted at what was to come. “Forever is quite a long time.”

“I’ll regret nothing,” she countered, taking a tiny step toward him until she had to look up to meet his gaze. “If it saves the lives of my family and the poor village folk under their care, it’s worth my sacrifice.”

“The poor village folk?” He raised a brow at her in question. “I am wicked, aren’t I?”

“Everyone says so.”

“They don’t know the extent of it. But you’re about to.” He took a step away from her. “Off with your dress.”

Oh! This story was getting interesting! “If that’s your command,” she said.

“It is, or I’ll put the chains back on you and rip the dress from your body myself,” he warned.

“Will you?” She repeated his own words from a few minutes prior back to him with a grin.

“Do you dare to question me, prisoner?”

She eyed him for a second, but as she was actually rather fond of this dress, she pulled it over her head and dropped it at his feet.

Fallon didn’t move instantly; instead, his gaze swept over her body. She could feel it like a featherlight touch, warming her bare skin. She stood before him completely naked while he still wore even his coat. Her heart pounded, and her breaths became shallow. Thus far he’d barely touched her, but the promise of what might happen next was thrilling.

Finally, he reached for her, lifting her from the ground. Her body was pressed against his in an instant. The rough wool of his coat abraded her breasts with every breath she took. He held her close, his hands cupping her rear and splaying across her lower back. This man she knew to be gentle and kind now, in this moment, only radiated power. But this wasn’t part of the act. Fallon did possess a quiet strength; he simply didn’t reveal that side of his character to her often. She found she loved this side as much as the other.

“What would happen if I dared question you?” she asked as she slipped her fingers through the knot of his cravat, pulling the fabric tight at his throat even as she worked to remove the garment.

The look in his eyes was dangerous in the fading light of day that came through the windows. “Do you really wish to find out?”