BTW, when I wrote this story I had an obsession with Peter Mensah, from Spartacus. He totally inspired Jide. So you can imagine how fearsome he is in this scene.
|Peter Mensah as Oenomaus in Spartacus|
She took a deep breath to quell her rising panic. As much as she dreaded the lash of the whip, there was far greater danger with her being alone in this man’s chamber. Brutal and frightening, he could easily overwhelm her with his strength.
“Am I now your captive?” she asked to distract him while her gaze roamed the sill searching for a weapon she could utilize to defend herself.
She would kill him first rather than have him forcibly take her.
“Until I know your intention for being in the heir’s private quarters, yes,” he replied, his tone matter of fact.
“You cannot keep me captive.” She moved closer to the wall with the weapons, one foot shuffle at a time.
“You will find that I can and will. Or would you rather I bind you to the picket outside like a common thief and whip the truth out of you.”
She turned her head sharply and raised her gaze to meet his.
His expression cooled, his lips pursed in a tight line.
Cold sweat broke on her forehead as her skin crawled with nervousness and fear. She had witnessed the effects of the whip on grown men. Seen them break down and cry for mercy as their skins flayed, blood and liquid oozing from the welts.
“Y—you wouldn’t,” she said bravely.
Inside she fought to control her stomach from churning and her feet from taking flight.
“Wouldn’t I? One thing the king detests is spies. I have the authority to mete out instant punishment to offenders.”
He stood and stalked toward her, a tiger prowling.
Instinct told her to pushed back and cower before him. To plead for mercy. She needed to survive so she could take care of her sibling.
Yet the thought of falling on her knees for another man who would take advantage had her bristling with anger. Despite her rising trepidation, she stood tall and met his stare without flinching. She kept her hands by her sides, rubbing her clammy palms against her skirt.
He stopped within reach of her but didn’t touch her. Instead, he crossed his arms across his chest. The flickering low lamp cast his features into shadows. She couldn’t read his expression.
“So if you have no wish for the whip tonight, you will stop your insubordination immediately and do as I tell you.”
His command grated on her nerves. She bit her tongue, quelling her sharp retort. She had no wish to have her skin flayed, or to be displayed publicly as a spy.
Flashing him her most disdainful glare, she asked, “What would you have me do?”
He might have her at his mercy but she didn’t have to make it easy for him.
“Get on the bed.”
Copyright Kiru Taye 2012
Blurb for Her Protector (Men of Valor, #3.5)
When a warrior’s restraint is tested, will he do his duty to the kingdom or succumb to the lure of a maiden?
Oma should fear the fierce warrior whose captive she’s become after she is seized while spying. The penalty is the lash of his whip. The ache in her body is not from the sting of his flogger but from the scorching heat of his touch. Still, she has to resist him if she wishes to safeguard the secrets she hides.
Jide is the prince’s closest guard. His duty is to keep the royal family safe, so he should deliver instant justice to the spy in his chambers. Yet the intense fire in the eyes of his beautiful prisoner Oma stirs him beyond that of any other maiden in his past. When his self-control is tried which will he choose—hand her over for punishment or defy the prince and protect her?
This is a short story sequel to His Princess (Men of Valor, #3) and the prequel to Men of Valor, #4. It is FREE to download from all the major eBooks retailers.
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