Wicked Little Thing (Little Thing #4)

A Steamy, Medieval Romance
From his deathbed, Sir Bertram de Auxerre bequeaths all his worldly possessions to the young warrior Remy Valeur. Remy arrives to the lands of Auxerre determined to manage both the holdings and Sir Bertram’s young daughter, Lisette. Lisette rebels against Remy’s domineering ways until she grows into womanhood and suddenly finds her defiance changing to something surprisingly different. Remy battles his own growing desire for his beautiful charge and finds himself embroiled in a match of wills as he attempts to deny the passion that burns between them.

From Chapter 6

Remy willed himself awake. Drew a deep breath. The scent of violets, soft and floral, filled his senses and suddenly he was wide awake. He stared at the ceiling, trying to get his faculties to work. His arms were bound. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look beside him, but he knew. Lisette was there. She had come to his bed. He felt her small warm body curled next to his and her long hair splayed back across his chest, tickling his bare skin. He drew a deep breath. The girl had not only come to his cottage, but had come to his bed ? Impossible! Lisette loved nothing better than to provoke him, but this was too much. She was playing a very dangerous game with him. His body, already heated from the dream he’d had of her, hardened. He groaned and she shifted beside him, sighing softly.

“Lisette!” he snarled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He jerked against his binds, felt the rope press into his skin. He bellowed in rage. “Untie me!”

Lisette bolted up. Her first frantic thoughts flew to the rope that bound him. He’d pulled it taut and it strained against the wooden post, the sound of wood splintering. She yelped and out a sense of self-preservation leapt onto him, straddled his torso as he swore again and thrashed beneath her. The bed post seemed to give and, frightened it would break, she lunged forward to hold his hands fast. Beneath her, his movements stopped abruptly.

His breath warmed her breasts as he lay quietly beneath her. He moved slightly and she could feel the prickle of his short beard through her thin nightgown. A hot thrill of pleasure shot down her spine, desire pooled within her, shocking her.

“Lisette,” he whispered.

“Remy…?” The absurdity of her situation slowly dawned upon her. If she let go of his hands, he would surely break the bed, but she could hardly remain with her breasts pushed against his face.

“Get up.” His voice sounded different to her. It was heavy and gruff.

“Stop struggling against your binds. I need to speak to you.”

“Get. Up.”

“All right, but it’s only with the understanding that you’ll be reasonable.”