“It's too bad,my lord," she purred, "that you are too weak and vulnerable to satisfy me."Ranulf grabbed her wrist and wrenched it from his skin. He pulled her closer so that she stood in between his legs,her face near his. "And just what was it you desired?"Bronwyn licked her lips and Ranulf realized it was not his humiliation she sought,but to salvage some pride of her own. With his free arm,he reached up to pull on the shirt gathered around his neck. "Angel,I am getting up,and if the only thing I have on are my underclothes...so be it.”

“Ranulf searched for something to distract him from what she was doing. Only one topic came to mind.Their kiss."About this morning.Your memory is faulty."Concentrating,Bronwyn was just about to sever the final stitch. "How so?" she murmured."I believe you kissed me."His nearness coupled with the unexpected reminder of their embrace caused her hand to quiver just as she sliced the last stitch, giving him a small scrape."Ow! You did that on purpose!"Bronwyn jumped back. She was no longer nestled between his legs, but neither was she out of his reach. "I did no such thing. Besides,it is a small sratch, so stop disgracing yourself by acting so cowardly," she scolded, waving the sharp blade around as if it was another appendage."Cowardly?" Ranulf bellowed, as he jerked the knife out of her hand. "You, angel, should be thanking me for being damn near to a saint! You have to be one of the most difficult women I have ever met."Bronwyn's chin popped up angrily, her deep blue eyes flashing. "I'm not difficult. You're the one yelling." She turned, grabbed his tunic, and threw it at him. "I'm done.You can get dressed now.”

“He knew it was ridiculous never to want another man to appreciate her beauty, to know her laughter, but until Bronwyn was his in every sense of the word, he would not be at ease.Then Tyr reached up and brushed something off her cheek and Ranulf's self-discipline exploded into a rushing torrent of anger and possessiveness. His best friend! On his land, touching his woman!Unthinking, Ranulf snatched his tunic and wrenched it over his head. After pulling on his leggings and shoes, he grabbed his belt and sword, fastening them as he exited the room. He ignored the servant,who had been patiently waiting just outside the door for instructions, and bounded down the stairs with only one thought-pummeling his soon-to-be ex-friend.”

“Pasting on her most endearing smile, Bronwyn stood up and interrupted, "I must beg everyone's pardon for retiring early. I have been needing to speak with my husband all day. So, we will see you in the morning." She then looked down at Ranulf to ensure he understood that she was serious.He arched a single brow, but said nothing as he rose to join her, ignoring the short coughs and snorts of laughter of his men. Bronwyn instantly froze as she realized what the small group-including her husband-believed she had meant. Mustering up the remnants of her pride,she forced herself to march on."It's nice to know you've been wanting me all day, but if you desire for us to be alone, there are more discreet ways of letting me know," Ranulf teased as he lifted the flap of their tent.Bronwyn knew her already red face was turning an even more brilliant color, but she refused to let Ranulf believe he had totally won. "You,husband, are far more in need of a modesty lesson than I."Ranulf let go the heavy material and then crossed his arms with a smug look of satisfaction Bronwyn wanted to both remove and indulge. "Don't believe in modesty.Never have.Kind of liking the fact that you don't either," he said, hinting at what he thought was about to come next.Bronwyn took a step back and waved a finger. "I said I wanted to speak with you alone...about tomorrow.”

“Shouldn't we get up?"With unexpected strength,he grabbed her waist and rolled her over at the same time, poisitioning her so that she was astride him. "I don't think so."Bronwyn licked her lips. "It is Saint Stephen's Day. The people will be waiting.""For their pots full of money.""So you know the custom," she purred, letting her fingers play with the hairs on his chest."Of course," he groaned. "I ordered the clay pots as soon as we got back after we went hunting.I'll pass them out tonight.""Did you know that you,too,get a present?" Bronwyn asked as she leaned down to kiss his naval, smiling with delight as his stomach contracted.Ranulf grinned back. "Really?And just what is in my clay pot?""Your present doesn't come in a pot," she purred, smiling as her hand slowly moved lower,making a trail for her mouth and tongue to follow. "And even more lucky,you don't have to wait until tonight either.”

“Bronwyn jumped when the door of her room sprang open and bounced against the stone wall. Something only one person would do.Lily."Lillabet! What are you doing here? Ranulf-""Ranulf?" Lily asked as she cocked her head to the side and wrinkled her nose. "I had forgotten that was his name. Lord,what a mouthful.”

“And you pride keeps you from doing anything absurd,I suppose."Ranulf eyed Bronwyn suspiciously. Their banter was the equivalent of foreplay, except he seemed to be the only one suppressing excitement. His angel just sat unperturbed and serene...almost too composed. "It helps.Just as the meat you ate last night.I smelled it on your fingers."Bronwyn felt her teeth grind as she shifted her clenched jaw. "As Advent is only required on three days of the week, I guess I was fortunate that I was able to consume the last of the lamb before Twelfthtide.""Making me unfortunate. But what about the exemption of children,the elderly, and the infirm?"The man was acting smug and causing her to react defensively. Bronwyn leaved over to pour herself some hot cider and then settled back in the hearth chair, slowly sipping the sweet drink. She glanced at him and then licked her lips and asked, "Oh,are you infirm?"Without blinking,Ranulf purred, "It depends."Bronwyn succumed to a shiver and looked away. She was playing with fire and needed to stop. "I suppose we could hunt for some barnacle geese. That should suffice for meat and still make Father Morrell happy.”