The Knight (Highland Guard #7.5)(31)

Something hardened in Sir David’s expression. He was looking over her shoulder at the Hall behind them. “Maybe not as over with as you’d hoped.”

She turned and her heart caught. Staring at them with the black, deadly look on his face that had earned him his epithet was James.

He strode toward them—stormed, more accurately—practically shoving people out of his way as he wound through the celebrating crowd.

Her valiant protector Sir David courageously, if not wisely, took her hand and stood beside her to face the imposing warrior, who looked more like an avenging demon.

James had not missed the possessive gesture and she could see his eyes flare with rage. Jealous rage. Knowing she had to diffuse the situation, she carefully detached her hand from Sir David’s and squared to meet James who had stopped a few feet away. He looked like he wanted to slam his fist against Sir David’s jaw, but fortunately he’d managed to exercise some semblance of control, and his gauntleted fists remained in tight balls at this side.

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you,” he said in a low voice.

Sir David didn’t react to the threat, though they all knew it was not an idle one. “Sod off, Douglas. If the lady does not want me to touch her, she’ll tell me. You have nothing to say about it.”

Joanna groaned inwardly. Dear God, Sir David was going to make this worse. She would not be responsible for these two men coming to blows. “What are you doing here, James? I said everything I had to say. I told you I didn’t wish to see you again.”

“You didn’t mean that.”

Joanna belied that claim with a silent stare.

James’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I should ask you what you are doing here? I thought there was nothing between you? It sure as hell doesn’t look that way to me.”

“Not everyone is as big a fool as you, Douglas. Don’t blame me for recognizing a treasure when I see one.”

James made a sound like a low growl in his throat and took a step toward the other man, but Joanna stepped between them. “What is it that you want, James? Say what you have to say and then leave.”

He looked at her so incredulously and so full of hurt, her spine shook from the effort to keep straight.

“Come on, Jo.” His voice had taken on a soft pleading tone she’d never heard before. “Don’t be like this. It isn’t you.”

Joanna turned to Sir David. “Will you give us a moment please?”

The younger knight looked back and forth between them. Though his expression said it was the last thing he wanted to do, he nodded. Joanna breathed a sigh of relief when he walked away.

But the tension remained.

James watched him disappear into the crowd with a narrowed gaze, and then turned to her. Before she could protest, he took her by the arm and dragged her behind the partition.

It was dark. The small space served as a storage area for the trestle tables when they were put away as they were now. There wasn’t much space, but he didn’t need any.

No sooner had they disappeared from view of the Hall than he spun her around, pushed her up against the stone wall behind her, and slammed his mouth on hers.

Her gasp of shock was swallowed in the initial onslaught of sensation. Hot, drenching, needy sensation. Surely, it was surprise that explained how her mouth instinctively opened and how her body melted into the strokes of his tongue. Of course it was. His big, hard body pressed against hers, hot and heavy, enveloping her in heat and virile male, leaving her nowhere to go.

Her senses were drowning in him. The warm, spicy taste of clove, the soapy scent of his always freshly bathed skin, the scent of heather that lingered on his surcoat. Passion rose up like a maelstrom inside her, threatening to drag her under. But she tamped it down before the urge—the need—to respond took over.

“No!” she murmured against his pillaging mouth. Putting two hands on his shoulders, she gave him a hard shove. “No!”

This time the word was formed enough to be heard. He released her, stepping back to give her a few inches of space, but still looming over her.

“How dare you!” she seethed, her chest heaving as she fought to take in air.

He met her anger full on, returning it with a fierce glare. “You are mine, Jo. Mine.”

“So that’s what that was? Some primitive show of possession? Why don’t you just grab a fist full of dirt, toss it at my feet, and claim seisin.”

“If I thought it would work, I would.”

Her mouth fell in a hard line. “I do not belong to you, James. You have no right to touch me like that.”

“I have every right. Your body doesn’t lie, Jo. You want me, just as badly as you did before.”

She wouldn’t argue, not when she was still shaking from the effort to pull away from him. “Lust isn’t love, James, and without the latter, I will not succumb to the former. You can corner me in dimly lit alcoves all you want, but it won’t change anything. I have learned the cost of unfettered passion, and no matter how good you make my body feel, I will not forget it. You will not win me by passion.”

“How can I win you?”

The soft plea in his voice nearly broke her. Don’t look at him. Don’t waver. She turned her head, refusing to meet the gaze that she knew would pierce her defenses and her heart. “You can’t.”