The men pounded their amusement on the door.
“Take it off or I’ll spank yer bony arse!” Brant moved to pull at her gown again. “Would you like that, lady wife? To be spanked?”
The men cheered and Della heard Gunther urging them away. Brant leaned forward and gently nuzzled her throat. His whiskered mouth tickled her skin in light caresses. This time his lips were dry as they kissed her, gentle and light. Della let out a yelp of alarm and pushed, to no avail, against his fixed shoulders. His caressing mouth was oddly enticing against her, much like his hands had been. Her eyes rolled back in her head in a near swoon.
Nay, more, she groaned inwardly.
“Pagan!” This time she didn’t push as hard against him. Her arms weakened to his touch and her head swayed to the side in submission. Lashes fluttered low over her eyes, almost flitting completely shut, until he suddenly stopped. Della blinked in momentary confusion.
Sighing, he leaned back to study her face. A devilish smirk lined his lips. “So tell me, lady wife, would you like to be spanked?”
“What?” she whispered. His blue eyes studied her attentively. He wasn’t drunk at all. “How dare—”
“Nay, Della.” Brant laughed, holding his hands up in defense as she swatted at him. Chuckling, he tapped her gently under the chin and climbed off her. “Enough of your sharp insults. They are disagreeable and make my head swim.”
“Why would you try to humiliate me like that?” She pulled the linens once more to her chin. Tears came to her eyes and she tried not to feel the disappointment that surged forth. “You use me for the merriment of your friends.”
“Oh, my darling little Ice Princess.” He looked at her as if the answer should have been obvious. “So the bedding would be believable. So your reactions would be real. Do you think you could have gotten over your aversion of me long enough to pretend to be a loving wife?”
“You could have told me,” Della fumed, not liking his nickname for her. “I understand what is at stake. I’m not a fool. Not like you, Brant the Thorn in my Arse!”
“Methinks not, lady wife.” He smiled. “Though if it is me in your arse you are interested in, I should be most willing to comply.”
“Nay, you disgusting pig. It is a sin to even think such thoughts.” She slapped at his hand as he reached toward her and gave him her most withering look. “And quit calling me lady wife, it is annoying. I’m done playing your sick, heathenish games. I would see my father now.”
“Have you forgotten about the bedding? The others will notice if we leave too quickly.” Brant was unruffled by her protests as he leaned to nuzzle her neck. “As long as we have to wait, would you like to beg me now for my touch? Mayhap another kiss? I promise I can melt your ice with my fire.”
“I will never beg for your touch and, as to my ice, there in naught your fire can do to it. My ice could easily put out your flame. If you don’t believe me, try putting a torch in cold water sometime. See which comes back the victor.” She again swatted at his playful hand and moved away from him to stand beside the bed. “You will have to ravish me.”
“That could be arranged, since you seem to be so fascinated with the prospect.” His tone was low and exact. The smile faded from his eyes, replaced by irritation. “Shall I use a knife to keep you to my will? A sword? Battle-axe? Large stick?”
“You would not dare.” She took a hasty step back. The room was suddenly too small.
“Mayhap I will just use my heathen, brute force. Do you think you could fight me off?” Brant shifted to his knees, presenting her with his broad, naked chest. Muscles rippled under his tanned skin and she gulped at his leering expression. “You are the one who said I was naught but a barbarian. Shall we see all that I am capable of?”
She stumbled back, her mouth gaping open. It would be impossible to fight him off. He would crush her if she were to try.
He held his arms wide. “Come, sweet Della, soothe the fire in my belly with your pleasantness. I long for the honeyed melodies of love that fall so freely from your wifely mouth and the tender passions of your touches—”
“You are a lewd man to discuss such things at length.” She covered her ears. “Can you think of naught else?”
Throwing his head back, he laughed dryly and dropped his arms. When he finished, he gracefully slid from the bed. Della shivered as he loomed toward her. If he attacked her with his ‘brute force’ there was nothing she could do to stop him. She came up against the door, pulled her hands from her ears and blindly searched for the latch.