The man narrowed his gaze on her and frowned. "I said
stop the infernal yelling before you render me deaf."
"No, the part about the others." He appeared so much
bigger when viewed close up, as though she were peering at
him from beneath the lens of Gregory's magnifying glass.
There was too much of him, large chunks of minute details
she did not care to see...the jagged scar on his chin
hidden beneath dark stubble, the long fringe of eyelashes,
the errant silver streaks in his chestnut hair.
"I am not going to hurt the others whoever the others
may be," he repeated in an obvious attempt to control his
temper.
It did not bode well the man had a temper. Men with
tempers could not be reasoned with. Or manipulated. The men
in the Munrove family did not possess tempers, which made
them malleable, even jovial. She would wager this man did
not possess a jovial bone in his overlarge body.
How to proceed? Madeline blew out a tiny breath. Very
tiny. As long as they were safe. And then the other thought
stormed her brain. "And me?" She stared straight into those
silver eyes, fighting the twirling in her stomach. "Do you
plan to murder me?"
He rubbed his jaw.
She held her breath.
"No."
She let out a swoosh of relief. Unfortunately, another
possibility tickled her brain. "Have your way with me then?"
He cocked a brow. "Is that an invitation?"
Brute. "Of course not, but if forcing yourself on me is
your intent, then I must warn you, I will not lie here
meekly."
He cleared his throat. "I should hope not."
"I will kick and scream, and thrash about."
His lips twitched. "Do tell."
"And claw my nails down your back until I make you
scream."
Those silver eyes widened. "You would make me scream?"
She would teach him. "I would. And when I was through,
on my word you would not be able to move even your little
finger."
The man nodded slowly, his gaze traveling the length of
her and settling on the third button of her blouse, the one
she only now realized she had neglected to button this
morning in her haste to reach the barn.
"You seem a worthy opponent."
"The worthiest," she spat out. She jerked a hand over
her chest. Take that, Mr. Intruder.