Excerpt from Chapter Four
Turning to run out of the room in hot pursuit, he heard a whooshing noise from above and felt a thud across his head. He watched in rapt fascination as, like a gigantic spider, she landed in front of him. She had been suspended in the rafters above his head the whole time.
Damn this woman, he thought as he readied his sword. She had pulled one over on him again. Shaking with a rage unlike any other, he vowed this would be the last time.
She stood silently between him and the door. Her red cloak covered her brilliant hair and only her red lips and creamy white skin showed from beneath it. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he didn’t need to. She pulled a dagger from the holster strapped around her thigh, sliding it across the black leather pants that peaked out from beneath her cloak. Deftly, she lunged at John with it, poised to strike. He sidestepped her advance and pushed her as she slid past him, causing her to stumble. Like a cat, she was instantly back on her feet. He tried not to be impressed by this woman’s skills, but it was impossible not to take notice of her speed and agility. Like lightning, she charged at him again. He blocked her with his sword and pushed her away. She ran forward and disappeared beneath him, swiping his legs out from under him as she slid through them. He realized he had underestimated her as he flipped backward, landing on his arse with a thud.
Before he could even process what had happened, she leapt on top of him, the tip of her sharp dagger pressing into his jugular so forcefully he could feel it thumping against his pulse. By God, who is this woman?
“John Wesley Douglas. I am impressed that you found me,” she said, lowering her mouth to just above his. He couldn’t help but feel himself stir again as she straddled his manhood, her hot breath brushing his lips. The element of danger twined with the strong sexual chemistry, creating a lethal cocktail of lust. “Tsk tsk. You should have left me be.”
“Left you be?” he raged. “You killed my friend. He was my family, you treacherous whore! What kind of man would I be if I let you get away with it?”
He watched as her cloak slipped off her head, revealing her shiny red waves. The silver and black clasp of her cloak rested just on her clavicle. John cursed himself for still feeling aroused at the thought of unclasping it and revealing her breasts even while she sat with a dagger to his throat.
“I did not kill your friend, even though I can see how you could come to that conclusion after our… interlude.”
Her blue eyes bore into his and John couldn’t help but feel she may be telling the truth. Then again, what did he know? She had bested him twice already and now he was just supposed to believe her? She had killed Henry. It had to be her, even though her eyes indicated innocence. No, she was guilty. She had to be. In that moment, his pride won out, demanding that he not let her get the best of him. With lightning-fast movement, John knocked the dagger away from his throat and sent her flying backward through the air. In an instant, he was on his feet and on top of her. He immobilized her before she could respond, her arms pinned above her head with one hand and her own dagger pressed to her throat with the other. She smiled and arched her meticulously groomed eyebrows.
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