“I swear to you that I did not know it was Warwick,” she insisted, now less angry and more frightened. “I was in the chamber for a very good reason– after moving all of my possessions up to the fourth level, I realized I had left something very important behind. Upon entering the chamber, I saw that someone was asleep on the bed and assumed it was you, so I was very quiet as I made my way to the bed so I could look underneath it for the basket I had left behind. As I looked underneath, the man in the bed grabbed me and called me a whore. He wanted me to warm his bed. So… so I hit him. I will not be taken for a whore, le Bec, not by anyone. I am within my right to defend myself.”
Kenton was listening with some astonishment to the entire explanation. It was nearly exactly what Warwick had told him and, as much as he hated to admit it, he believed her. He was quite sure she would not know Warwick on sight and quite sure that the woman, although cunning and intelligent, would not lie to him. She’d proven that when she had shown him Gaylord’s tomb. He didn’t want to believe her; for all of the frustration and embarrassment she had caused him, he truly wanted to punish her. There was great satisfaction in that thought. But the fact remained that he did, indeed, believe her. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips and he hung his head, shaking it sorrowfully.
“God’s Blood,” he hissed. “Is it true? Did you truly go in there without the intent to beat him?”
Nicola nodded her head. “Why would I do such a thing?” she asked, hoping he believed her. “Why would I risk being put back in the vault again?”
Kenton shook his head. “I would not know this,” he said flatly. “You have challenged me from the moment I set foot in Babylon, so I cannot pretend to anticipate anything you do. You seem to take delight in pushing me.”
Nicola’s expression was guarded. “And you seem to take delight in pushing me.”
He looked at her, then. “I do not push, Madam,” he said. “I mean everything I say. My words are not meant as suggestions or hints. They are meant to be obeyed without question.”
Nicola didn’t know what to say to that. The fury of the situation had thankfully blown over but she was still very uncertain as to his motives or what he planned to do. When she didn’t reply, he lifted his eyebrows expectantly at her.
“Have you nothing to say to me?” he asked.
Nicola shook her head but she was feeling increasingly incensed by the way he was treating her. The man was big and powerful, and he used that size and power against her. She did, in fact, have something to say.
“You had no reason to drag me down here as you did before you knew all of the facts,” she said, sounding hurt and angry. “I was, in fact, Warwick’s victim, yet you treated me as if I had been the attacker. Your sense of justice is twisted, le Bec. Is this your idea of fairness?”
He cocked his head. “Who said anything about being fair?” he wanted to know. “Warwick supersedes you and me and everyone else at Babylon, so when the man tells me that a beautiful woman thrashed him, I believed him.”
Nicola’s eyes flashed. “Ididthrash him,” she said. “God knows what would have happened had I not. I will not be takeninto any man’s bed, le Bec, so you may as well know that now. If anyone tries, I will do to them what I did to Warwick.”
She was angrily marching towards the chamber door now, where he was standing. The more furious she became, the more he cooled and regained his composure. He supposed she had every right to be angry but he would not acknowledge the fact. The woman had to know she could not soften him or change his mind. She had to know she had no effect on him.
… or did she?
Startled to realize that, perhaps, her moods did have an effect on him, he grabbed her wrist as she reached out to unlatch the door.
“I will not tell you this again,” he said, gazing down into that lovely, angry face. “You will remain to your rooms for now. You will not come out for any reason until I personally release you.”
Her jaw ticked as she looked at his massive hand holding her wrist. His hand was so big that it covered half her forearm. Still, she couldn’t help but notice the heat of his flesh against hers. There was something in that heat that made her heart leap strangely.
“Take your hand from me,” she growled.
He very nearly smiled; the woman was, if nothing else, courageous. Perhaps it was foolish in the face of a man more than twice her size, but she was courageous nonetheless. He admired that in a strange way.
“Not until we are clear,” he said, matching her tone. “Do you understand you are not to leave your rooms?”
“Aye.”
“Swear this to me.”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I swear it, you bas… that is, I swear it, my lord.”
He ignored the slander that had nearly slipped from her lips. “You will obey me without hesitation from now on,” he said, watching the disgust ripple across her face. “Is that clear?”
“It is.”
“Swear it to me.”
“I swear.”
He didn’t believe her but he kept his opinion to himself; perhaps she truly believed her vow. Knowing what he did of the woman, however, he did not. He released her arm.
“I will summon you in time to prepare the nooning meal,” he told her as she yanked the door open. “I will expect a feast.”