By Lisa Jackson
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Additional resources for Temptress
He heard sounds ... disembodied voices talking over and around him, as if he were truly dead, the words whispering across his burning skin like the wings of moths. Still he was unable to move. Couldn't so much as flinch. He tried to speak, but no sound escaped his lips. Where was he? His mind was blurry and dark, as if he were lying in a fog-shrouded forest. How long had he been here? He tried to open an eye, but pain sliced through his brain, and he could do little but let out a moan and try to fight the blackness that pulled at the corners of his consciousness and threatened to drag him down in that blissful abyss where there was no pain, no memories.
Oh, he was a devil. Isa was right. Morwenna should never have allowed him close to her, let him into this room without a ceiling. But you didn't. You don't even know where you are. Perhaps you 're his captive and this is your prison cell. Could it not be that he is keeping you here as his slave, to minister to him, to lie with him, to do his bidding? "If you won't leave, then I will," she said, her gaze sliding away from his face to search the floor and the pegs near the door for her clothes. " he taunted, settling onto the bed next to her and running a finger down the side of her jaw.
You wanted to speak to me," Morwenna prodded as the captain of the guard hung near the door. " She motioned to the two chairs near the fire and settled into one of them. " " 'Tis the prisoner," he said and reluctantly, it appeared, took a seat as the fire crackled and spit, offering golden light that played upon his rough-hewn features. A big man with a crooked nose and dark, anxious eyes, he'd been a part of Calon, one of the servants and soldiers she'd inherited with the keep. "What about him?