“Listen, Greylen, whatever your name is. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your word. And I sure as hell don’t have to stand here taking your sanctimonious bullshit. The message was loud and clear, buddy, now hear mine.” She paused, feeling for his chest. Finding her mark, she used her finger and nailed his center with it every few words. “Dream or not, I would’ve made love to you tonight. Do you know why? Don’t answer that,” she hissed in his face. “It was rhetorical.” She qualified it all the same. “You made me feel things tonight, things I’ve only dreamed about—with you, I might add. And, maybe, before I died, I wanted to believe that I did belong somewhere.” Tears of frustration ran down her cheeks now, but she had to finish. She, unlike some, did not run away. “I’d have taken it, Greylen. I’d have unabashedly reveled in those feelings,” she confessed, mortified that her words caught on a sob before she could continue, “even for one night.”

Greylen didn’t say a word, in fact, it seemed the man was utterly still. Well, bully for you. But then he grabbed her and she must have been only inches from his face. “First, that move you used to disarm me was brilliant. ’Tis pride which fills me that you used it.” He must’ve been done complimenting her, because he squeezed her and brought her even closer. “Now let me make myself clear…Gwendolyn, whatever your name is. I don’t give a rat’s ass, as you’ve said, what you believed before, and I sure as hell didn’t feed you sanctimonious bullshit. And by the way, who in the hell taught you to speak such filth?” he yelled. “Nay, don’t answer that,” he warned her when she opened her mouth. “’Twas rhetorical.” She could only imagine his great satisfaction in the fact she remained silent. “Mouth and temper aside, I’ll have you, Gwendolyn, I swear I will,” he hissed. “And when I swear to anything, you’d better believe I make good on it. Do you understand?” He seemed to wait for her to respond, and when she didn’t, he gave her a squeeze. “Answer, Gwendolyn. Now.” Even with bandages covering her eyes, she knew they were in the midst of a staring match.

And it was vicious.

“Let me tell you something else, since you’re being so very receptive, Gwen-do-lyn. This is no dream,” he shouted. “At dawn your bandages will be removed, and I will see your eyes for the first time. And when I’ve had my fill, and only when I’ve had my fill, we will say our vows. You will be wed to me. You will carry my name, you will bear my children, and I swear to you and God above, you will live here with me—FOREVER.”

Her hair blew back from his tirade. Gimme a break, Mr. I’m Your Ruler. Like she was scared, ha. She wasn’t scared at all. In fact, now she knew the truth. She crossed her arms over her chest and remained silent. With deliberate nerve, she stuck her chin out, purposely instigating him. Well it was her dream, wasn’t it?