Lilian climbed the wooden stairs feeling as though her legs could barely carry her. Three days? Three whole days trapped with him in a single room?
When Alistair opened the door, the room was, fortunately, spacious and clean, though simple. A massive bed of raw wood covered in bear furs, a large stone fireplace where the fire blazed, and a small table with a pitcher of water.
Alistair entered and closed the door behind him with the heavy bolt. The sound of the door locking had the finality of a prison cell.
Lilian stood in the center of the room, not knowing what to do or where to go. She was still wearing her heavy, wet coat.
"What about your men?" she asked suddenly, trying to break the silence and escape thinking about the massive bed. "The weather outside is lethal... did you leave them to sleep in the open?"
Alistair began unfastening the clasp of his heavy cloak, looking at her with surprise, as if her concern for his soldiers was unexpected from a "spoiled princess."
"My soldiers?" He threw the cloak onto a chair. "Don't worry about them. I've booked the entire ground floor and the stables for them. They are Northern men; they are used to sleeping on ice. Sleeping in a warm inn is a luxury for them."
Lilian sighed with genuine relief. "That is good... I feared you might be a tyrant to the point of letting them freeze."
Alistair gave a half-smile as he began unbuttoning his military tunic. "I am a tyrant to my enemies, but I am not a fool to lose my men to the cold. However... it seems your interest in others is greater than your interest in your current situation."
She ignored his comment, looking around in confusion. "Where... where can I change? This dress is wet and heavy."
Alistair gestured with his hand to the entire room. "The room is before you."
"I mean... a private spot? A screen?"
Alistair sat on the edge of the bed and began removing his tall military boots with total indifference. "There are no screens here. And we are not in the Palace of Versailles. Change your clothes by the fire before you catch a fever."
She froze. Did he really expect her to undress in front of him?
In that moment, Alistair stood up and, with a fluid motion, pulled off his shirt, revealing a broad torso thick with muscle and old scars that told stories of endless wars. He showed not a shred of modesty or hesitation. He treated his body as a tool of war and the room as his private domain.
Lilian quickly lowered her gaze, feeling the heat of embarrassment sting her cheeks. "You... you are shameless!"
"And you are suspiciously shy," he replied as he walked toward the water basin to wash his face. "For the thousandth time, Lilian, I have seen all of this before. Why act as if we are strangers?"
She turned her back to him and, with trembling hands, began unlacing her dress, trying to keep her chemise covering her body as much as possible. She could hear the sound of the water as he washed and the sound of his heavy footsteps on the wood, making her nerves as taut as a violin string about to snap.
Suddenly, she felt his presence directly behind her. She hadn't heard him approach, but she felt the heat radiating from him. Her hands stopped moving.
"Do you need help?" his voice whispered at her shoulder, deeper and huskier than before.
"No..." her voice came out shaky. "I can manage... get away."
He didn't move away. Instead, he reached out his large, rough hands and cornered her, leaning against the table in front of her, trapping her body between himself and the table. She felt his bare chest touch her back through the thin fabric.
"You're trembling," he said, slowly moving her hair away from her neck. "Is it the cold? Or fear?"
"It's anger," she lied, trying to control her quickened breath. "I am not one of your concubines for you to toy with in a cheap inn. There are boundaries, Duke, and you are overstepping them."
Alistair let out a low laugh by her ear and slowly ran his nose along the length of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as if it were a drug. "Boundaries?"
He pressed a warm, damp kiss to the pulse point on her neck, making her knees weaken. "I do not recognize the word 'boundaries' when it comes to what I own. You signed the contract, and you entered my den. You are mine... with all your contradictions, and all this false pride of yours."
She turned suddenly to face him, trying to push him away with her hands, but found herself placing her small palms against his solid, bare chest. His gaze was dark, filled with an overwhelming desire and an undeniable sense of possession.
"Alistair... stop!" she said in a tone of entreaty rather than command. "We are... we are exhausted. The journey has been long."
He caught her chin and tilted her face up to his. He ran his thumb over her trembling lower lip. The atmosphere was charged with an electric tension that nearly scorched the air. He moved closer until their breaths mingled, and she thought he would kiss her with a kiss that would make her lose consciousness...
But he stopped.
He stopped millimeters from her lips.
His eyes remained open, watching her turmoil and her partial surrender. Then, very slowly, he took a step back from her.
Lilian opened her eyes in bewilderment, panting. Why did he stop?
Alistair looked at her with an enigmatic expression, then picked up a towel and began drying his hair as if nothing had happened.
"Don't worry," he said with sudden coldness. "I won't devour you tonight."
He tossed the towel aside and headed toward the bed. "Save your energy, Lilian. The journey is still long, and what awaits you at Castle Cloud will require every ounce of strength you possess. I don't want you collapsing before the real game begins."
Lilian sat in the chair by the fire, hugging her knees to her chest, watching the flames consume the wood. Her emotions were in total disarray. Was he being merciful? Or was he playing with her?
"Sleep," his voice came commandingly from the bed. "We have three days here. And if you stay awake thinking, I might change my mind about leaving you be."
Lilian blew out the light and slipped into the other side of the massive bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, her back to him. But she remained awake for hours, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, thinking about his words: "What awaits you at the castle."
What other hell awaited her there? And was this man sleeping beside her her protector... or her executioner?