His mouth left her throat to cover her mouth. It was that bad. Her body’s rejection was instantaneous. She felt it in every fiber of her being. No! She wanted to scream. Her muscles tensed with the instinctive response to break free.

But she forced herself not to move. It was a job. It served a higher purpose. This wasn’t her. She didn’t feel anything. It was just a kiss.

But the cold detachment she’d always been able to muster wasn’t there. She felt everything, and the sensation of his lips pressing intently—lustily—against hers . . .

Oh God, she couldn’t do this.

She pushed away—or tried to push away—breaking the kiss if not his hold on her. “Wait!” she said in a gasp.

His arms tightened around her. She’d never been locked in irons, but she suspected the sensation was the same.

“Wait for what?” he said angrily.

“I . . . uh . . . anyone might discover us. Besides . . .” She smiled broadly and she hoped with considerably less trepidation than she was feeling. “We should get to know each other a little better first.”

It was all she could think of to put him off. Goodness knew her trick with marriage wouldn’t work with Sir Hugh—he would never believe she was foolish enough to consider marriage.

His dark eyes held a warning that he was not in the mood for delays or games. “I already know all I need to, and we know each other plenty well.” He paused, eyeing her suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly playing the blushing maid? I thought you wanted this. Or maybe there’s something else you want from me?” His eyes drew as sharp as daggers. “Did the queen put you up to this? Are you spying on me?”

“Of course not!” she exclaimed adamantly. But his accusation hit too close to the truth. She’d roused his suspicions, and knowing she had to put a stop to it, she didn’t protest when his mouth covered hers again.

She tried—truly she did—for all of about three seconds. But when he attempted to push his tongue between her lips, the panic—the revulsion—was too overwhelming. She couldn’t bear it. Not another moment.

She tried to push away a second time, but he wasn’t having it. The arms that were wrapped around her were like chains of steel. He wasn’t going to let her go.

She struggled, a moment of panic overtaking her as the memories came rushing back. But only for an instant. She would never let that feeling of helplessness take hold of her—she would never let a man hurt her like that again.

Her movements were smooth and quick, as if practiced a thousand times—which wasn’t too far off. Lachlan was a difficult taskmaster and demanded perfection. She’d been glad of it now and had been more than once.