She was going to be cool and rational this time. No stupid comments, no emotional outbursts. She would tell him what had happened, and he would see reason.
She hastened to reassure him. "I'm not trying to get you to marry me—"
"Good, because I won't," he growled, closing the distance between them, using his body to intimidate her.
She planted her feet and held her ground. Given that her nose came only to his solar plexus, it wasn't as easy as she made it look.
"What's this?" he purred softly. "You doona fear me? You should fear me, English." He closed his hands around her upper arms like bands of steel.
Silvan and Dageus must be pressing their ears to the doors, waiting for his explosion, she thought, but they'd misjudged him. This was not a man who exploded—he seethed quietly and infinitely more dangerously.
"Answer me," he demanded, shaking her. "Are you such a fool that you have no fear of me?"
She'd rehearsed her speech a dozen times, yet when he stood so close to her, it was difficult to remember where she'd decided to begin. Her lips parted as she stared up at him. "Please—"
"Please what?" he said silkily, lowering his head to hers. "Please kiss you? Please take you the way you accuse me of already having had you? I've had a long time to think today, English, and I must confess that I find myself fascinated by you. I rode for hours before stopping in the tavern. I drank for hours, yet fear all the whisky in fair Alba wouldn't cleanse you from my mind. Have you spelled me, witch?"
"No, I have not spelled you, I am not a witch, and please don't kiss me," she managed. God, she wanted him! Whether he knew her or not, it was her Drustan, damn it all, just a month and five centuries younger.
"Och, that's a rare request from a woman," he mocked. "Especially one who says she's already tasted my loving. Do you now disparage my intimate attentions?" His gaze was silver ice, challenging. "Was I less than satisfying? You claim we're lovers; mayhap we should be again. It would seem I've left a less than favorable impression." He closed his hand about her wrist and tugged her toward the bed. "Come."
She dug her heels in, a feat in soft slippers on a planked wood floor.
Her protests whooshed from her lungs when he scooped her into his arms and tossed her onto the bed. She landed on her back, sank deep into velvet-covered feather mattresses, and, before she could scramble away, he was on top of her, his body stretched the length of hers, pinning her with his weight.
She closed her eyes to shut out the sight of his beautiful, angry face. She would never be able to carry on a meaningful conversation with him in this position.
"Drustan, please listen to me. I'm not trying to trap you into marriage, and there's a reason why I said what I said this morning, if you'll just listen," she said, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
"There's a reason why you lied? There's never a reason to lie, lass," he growled.
"Does that mean you never lie?" she said snidely, opening her eyes a slit and peeping at him. She was still miffed that he hadn't told her the entire truth before sending her back.
"Nay, I doona lie."
"Bullshit. Sometimes, not telling all of the truth is exactly the same thing as lying," she snapped.
"Such language from a lady. But you're no lady, are you?"
"Well, you're certainly no gentleman. This lady didn't ask you to throw her in your bed."
"But you like being beneath me, lass," he said huskily. "Your body tells me much your words deny."
Gwen stiffened, horrified to realize she had hooked her ankles over his legs and was rubbing a slipper against one muscular calf. She pushed at his chest. "Get off me. I can't talk to you when you're squishing me."
"Forget about talking," he said roughly, lowering his head to hers.
Gwen shrank back deeper into the pillows, knowing the moment he kissed her she would be lost.
Just as his lips brushed hers, the boudoir door opened and Silvan stepped briskly in.
"Ahem." Silvan cleared his throat.
Drustan's lips froze against hers. "Get out of my chamber, Da. I will handle this as I see fit," he growled.
"But you didn't tup her last eve, eh?" Silvan remarked mildly, his gaze sweeping over them. "Things look cozy to me, for being strangers and all. Aren't you forgetting something? Or should I say someone'? The lass told me you were in danger; the only danger I perceive is that of you botching yet another perfectly good—
"Hand yer wheesht!" Drustan roared. Stiffening, he pushed himself off her and sat back on his heels on the bed. "Da, you are no longer chieftain here, remember? I am. You quit. Get out." He flung an impatient hand toward the door. "Now."