When he felt a confusing surge of lust at the idea, he realized she must already be enthralling him. Of course she was. He'd seen the road disappear, had seen the bridge abutment move. She had unthinkable power, and for some reason she'd targeted him.
He surveyed the dimly lit space. She'd lured him directly into a large dungeon cell. And one he recognized, because he'd kept prisoners here when he was master and king of Castle Tornin.
She's trapped me in my own goddamned dungeon.
When he faced her once more, she met his gaze. Her eyes were unusual-with light amber irises surrounded by a ring as dark as coffee. He couldn't seem to look
away from them. "You've brought me back to Tornin, so I assume you're working with Omort."
"That's correct." Her voice was a purr.
I'm in my own dungeon, a prisoner of my worst enemy. Between gritted teeth he said, "And when will I get to face him?"
"You will not. You need not. All you need is me."
"Explain to me exactly what you plan," he demanded, cursing his reaction to her. He'd never responded so strongly to any woman before her. He'd been kissing her, lost in pleasure, actually thinking, She might be my queen.
Rydstrom had worried what such a beauty would think about his scar, about how much larger he was than she. For her, he'd tried to gentle his touch and kiss. All the while she'd been luring him into a trap.
"I plan," she began matter-of-factly, "to become pregnant with your heir."
His lips parted. Her very words made his shaft shoot hard as steel as every primal demon instinct inside him seemed to stir to life. This female with her plump breasts and sweet lips desired his seed, wanted to mate with him.