Giant of Mesabi

Slowly, reluctantly, she awakened to a midmorning sun, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar room. Remembering where she was, she tensed, listening. There was only silence. Where was Rolt? There was a noise outside her window. Slipping from under the covers, she went to investigate.

In the drive below she could see Rolt walking toward the corner of the house. He was carrying a rod and reel and tackle box. She watched him disappear around the house in the direction of the lake. She didn't question her good fortune at being left alone, but took advantage of it instead.

The chair was moved away from the bathroom door. The porcelain tub beckoned to her as she entered. A long soak would ease the aching tiredness of her muscles and help eliminate the drugged feeling of her senses. She turned on the taps and added a generous amount of the bubble bath she found on the shelf, then while the tub was filling with water, she brushed the woolly taste from her mouth and laid out the clothes she would wear on the bed.

Later, immersed up to her neck, Alanna felt deliciously indulged and pampered. Frothy bubbles peaked and mounded around her. The comfortably hot water was soothing. She rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations.

The door to the second bedroom opened. Foolishly she had forgotten to lock it. She sat up with a start and just as quickly sank below the concealing bubbles. She had forgotten about Rolt. She couldn't do that any more. He was leaning against the door frame, staring at her.

"Get out of here!" she hurled indignantly.

"Why?" The bemused glitter in his eyes betrayed the bland expression on his face.

"I'm taking a bath, that's why," Alanna retorted.

"I noticed that." The grooves near his mouth deepened slightly.

"I would like some privacy." She pressed her lips tightly together. It wouldn't do to lose her temper when she was in such a vulnerable position.

"Does it bother you to have me watch?"

"You know it does," she hissed tautly.

"That's too bad." Rolt shrugged and folded his arms in front of him

. There was an unmistakable challenge in his stance that dared her to try to throw him out. "Are you going to be in there much longer? I'm getting hungry for breakfast."

"Go and fix your own!" Alanna glared, hating him intensely for putting her in such an awkward position.

"I couldn't deprive you of the privilege," he mocked.

That did it. "Privilege!" she exploded. "You've made the man I love think I'm some cheap, money-hungry tramp, then blackmailed me, using my parents, into marrying you. And you dare to suggest that fixing a meal for you is a privilege. You are the lowest, most contemptible being on earth! You're not even a being—you're a thing!"

His eyes grew cold and hard. "You've been rehearsing that little speech for quite a while, haven't you?" Rolt taunted harshly. "Do you have any more stored up?"

"Millions!"

"Don't stop now." His lips curled in a jeer. "Let's hear them all. I have plenty of time."

Alanna couldn't decide whether the bathwater had suddenly cooled or her temperature had risen to boiling point, but her skin suddenly felt cold. She wanted to be out of the tub, with something more substantial covering her than the slowly dissipating bubbles.

"Will you get out of here?" She choked on her anger.

"Come now, my little fishwife," he taunted again. "You haven't used disgusting and loathsome yet. How about repulsive? You do find me repulsive, don't you?" The hard and knowing glint in his eye reminded her of that time when she had responded unrestrainedly to his caresses.

The submerged washcloth drifted close to her hand. Her fingers closed around the saturated cloth. Blinded with anger, she flung it at his head, a spray of water scattering over the tiled floor, and a few drops landed harmlessly on his bronzed features.

"Get out of here!" Her voice trembled hoarsely.

"Discounting the fact that your aim was off, you should have thrown something more deadly than a washcloth," Rolt informed her, straightening away from the door frame and moving toward her with ominous purpose.

Wildly Alanna reached for the rosettes of soap in the dish beside the bathtub. She pelted him with two of them, but the third didn't have a chance to leave her hand as her wrist was caught by the biting grip of his fingers.

"Drop it," he ordered, and twisted her hand back until the pink rosette slipped from her pain-charged fingers.

Her fingers clawed at the hand that held her wrist. A twin grip closed around the other hand and Rolt dragged her out of the tub. Water and bubbles splashed everywhere as she tried to resist when he hauled her against his chest. The slippery tile floor Offered little footing, hampering her efforts to kick at him.

Rolt twisted her arms behind her back, crushing her against his granite length, and applied pressure to his brutal hold. Alanna had to stop struggling to keep from adding more pain to her arms. She tipped her head back, violet eyes sparkling purple with rage. An answering fire smoldered in his.