The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

And he must desire his wife?

As they ascended a staircase, she realized they were headed for the General’s suite. A big nope from Taliyah. She dug her heels into the marble, barely slowing his progress. “I’m not staying in Nissa’s room.”

“Correct. I am.” He didn’t bother glancing at her, just kept dragging her along. “You’ll stay next door.”

Teeth grinding, she asked, “You don’t feel guilty about claiming the bedroom of the woman you just murdered?”

“Hardly. She chose to die. I honored her decision.”

“Hold up. You didn’t just say she chose to die.”

“She attacked me. She chose to die,” he verified, his tone flat.

“And you honored her decision,” she repeated, her tone dry.

“Is there any greater honor than dying for your cause?”

“Yes. Living for it.”

He frowned over his shoulder, and she schooled her expression to say, Go ahead, deny it.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said with a shrug. “I gave her the second-best honor.”

Such a paragon of virtue. “If honor really matters to you, you won’t cheat on your brand-new wife.” Since sex purged him of aggression, she considered herself the royal wet blanket. The more on edge she kept him, the more mistakes he’d make. “If you truly respect a person’s position, as I do, you’ll respect mine and abstain from sex for the next thirty days.”

The muscles in his shoulder bunched as he said, “You manipulate me. At the moment, I’m willing to play along. So yes. I will remain celibate on your behalf. If you think you’ve won a battle, however, you are mistaken. You alone will suffer my wrath.”

“For your information, I’ve won two battles. This pledge and the kiss. Admit it, you’re hungry for more of me. Starved!”

The slightest noise left him. A growl? A grin spread. Oh, yeah. He wanted more.

Now she would needle him about it for the rest of his very short life.

They reached the master suite, where two guards stood sentry. Without a word exchanged, the pair opened up, allowing Alaroc and Taliyah to stride inside without pause.

“You may go,” he said, giving Taliyah a nudge as disciplined as his handhold.

With a quick scan, she memorized the layout of the room and noted every object she could use to her advantage. Basically: everything. The teapot in the sitting area before the hearth. The vase of flowers on the dresser. The massive chandelier hanging over the bed.

When she pivoted to face him, he kicked the door shut, sealing the two of them inside.

“Okay, Mr. Drama Queen.” Was she supposed to cower now that they were alone? Why not test his reflexes? After all, he hadn’t even bothered to discard her weapons.

She strolled closer, grateful she’d taken Neeka’s advice and trained at the hands of a sensual master. Voice throaty, she asked, “Whatever do you plan to do with me?”

“Whatever I want.” He stalked closer, as well...only to bypass her without ever making contact.

Jerk! “I’m assuming the whatever I want goes both ways?”

He snorted. A starting bell. Taliyah didn’t bother pondering the best attack. She simply grabbed a dagger and slammed the blade into his brain stem. Except, he twisted and latched on to her wrist, stopping her before she made contact.

Their gazes connected, her breath hitching.

“There’s something you should know,” he told her, utterly calm and casual. “I sense the slightest thrum of aggression.”

“Are you saying I inadvertently broadcasted my intentions?”

Nod.

“Something to work on, then.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Drop the dagger.”

“No, thanks.” She gripped the hilt tighter.

“Drop it.”

“No. Obviously, I have a point to prove.” Nothing would stop her. Not now, not ever.

He squeezed her wrist, and it hurt. Tomorrow she’d wear his bruises. Still she held on with all her might.

“This bedroom is our neutral zone. Attacks aren’t allowed in here.” He punctuated every word. “I’m not angered by your actions—yet. You didn’t know. Now you do. Next time... Do not let there be a next time.” His tone sharpened into an audible blade. “Drop the dagger, Taliyah. Now.”

Not angered by her actions yet? Liar, liar. The man seethed. “Sorry,” she quipped, “but this is a therapy dagger. The law says I get to take it everywhere, no questions asked.”

He stepped closer, entering her personal space until the blade rested against his collarbone. Teeth clenched, he told her, “Listen well, harpy. From this moment on, my law is your law. If I must remove your hand to oversee your cooperation, I will.”

The most delicious warmth radiated from him, threatening to weaken her resolve. As a phantom and snake, she existed in a state of total cold, regardless of the situation. She didn’t like it, but what could she do? How did this man continue to heat her up, something Hades, a king of Hell, had never managed?

“Does anyone ever disobey you?” she asked conversationally.

“Never more than once.”

Arrogant male. Sexy. Too bad, so sad. I will make him concede.