"I know." She ran her fragile-looking hand over the sheet. "We will wed."
She talked of marrying him as if it were an afterthought, while his mind was reeling.
Because he was drawn to her as no other woman before. And there was only one way to determine if she was truly his.
"You'll give your vow to me, demon. And I'll accept it."
The vow-the recitation that would bind a rage demon king to his queen. No ceremony, no witnesses, just a pact between two to become one. He would vocalize his claim on her, and if she accepted his right to her, then she would forever be his queen. "My people will never recognize a marriage coerced by sorcery-or a conception fueled by your notorious potions."
"Rydstrom, let's just be frank here. Considering your reaction to me"-she delicately pointed to his erection-"do you really think I'll need to use sorcery on you?" He clenched his jaw, unable to deny what was so obvious."
"Of course you'd kill me after our babe is born?"
Our babe. He'd never said the phrase in his life. Even she tilted her head at the words.
But then she slowly smiled-and it was beguiling and took his breath away. Had she noticed? "Well, I wouldn't be a very good evil sorceress if I allowed you to live."
"Then there's one thing I can assure you. You will
never get my vow from me."
"Then, Rydstrom, I can't let you have me without it."
At that, everything became clear. She would tease him, sexually tormenting him until he gave up the words. Why did the thought make blood surge to his groin?
This creature taking him to the brink, over and over.
Imagining the power struggle between them, the complication of it . . . Fantasies arose in his mind, thoughts he usually buried at once. Secrets long kept- and forever denied. "Then all you're doing is wasting my time," he said, but his voice was roughened.