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you to welcome you as her lord.” I was making up this stuff as I went, but I was desperate—anything to get away from this nut. “Then we’ll sit down and have a nice chat over coffee about crusades and the last six hundred years. Sound good?”
    Rand’s eyes watched me, and I had the strange impression that I was being assessed by a predator. It wasn’t a good feeling. “Swear it,” he said after a moment. “Swear it on your liege’s life.”
    Since I had no liege, that was a pretty safe thing to swear upon. “I swear it. I swear it on the great Elvis Presley’s life.”
    â€œMmm. You were very quick to swear.” He regarded me, his gaze moving over my body.
    I fought to keep my face neutral. “I’m an enthusiastic girl, what can I say?”
    â€œYet you had no enthusiasm before now.”
    â€œI’m also a delayed-reaction enthusiasm kind of girl.”
    His brow furrowed, and I knew he had no idea what my words meant. “No,” he said. “Stay here with me.”
    â€œAll righty,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Your call.”
    Rand shifted his weight on his feet, then stood. He moved back toward the coffin, and when his hand brushed against the lid, it slid to the ground, clattering. He jumped backward, his hands going to his waist. He patted his side and glanced back at me. “My sword?”
    â€œIn the box behind you,” I lied, hoping he’d take the bait. Just, you know, jump right back in and make yourself cozy.
    He eyed me, clearly not falling for it. “Get it for me.”
    â€œWomen aren’t allowed to carry swords.” I kept my face as guileless as possible.
    Rand’s mouth quirked into what would have been a devastatingly attractive smile if I hadn’t known he was a vampire. But I got the impression he was enjoying my tart responses. “Very well,” he said, and turned around to dig through crates.
    Success! I got up and bolted for the stairs, hoping I could escape before he caught on to what I was doing.

Four
    I made it three or four steps up the circular stairs, my feet clanging against the metal loudly. Then a strong, cold arm wrapped around my waist. “You do not leave, wench.”
    I screamed, flailing my arms against him. “I’m not your captive!”
    â€œYou are mine until I am done with you,” he told me in that amused, cocky voice. As if what I wanted didn’t matter in the slightest. It was infuriating. “And you are not escaping me. Not while I have need of your services.”
    I could just guess what those services were. Blood, and judging by the way he looked at my heaving breasts as he set me back down on the stairs, other services that had nothing to do with blood and everything to do with submitting. The worst of it all? He wasn’t ugly in the slightest, so it wasn’t as if it’d be a chore to sleep with the guy.
    And that galled the crap out of me.
    â€œCease fighting,” he told me. “You will injure yourself.”
    I slammed a fist into his arm just to prove that I could. He didn’t even bat an eye, though his amused smile widened.
    I shouldn’t have fought so hard. In the next moment, the room spun, and I felt light-headed. I wobbled and fell against him.
    Rand caught me easily, his look one of concern. “Are you well?”
    â€œOf course I’m not well,” I snapped at him. “You drank half my blood. I need to sit down.” My voice was weak and thready. “Maybe eat something. Maybe . . .”
    To my surprise, he picked me up in gentle arms, cradling me against his chest. “I will carry you. Tell me where is the best place we can get you food and ale.”
    Ale? For some reason, I giggled at that. Here I was pitching around like a drunk on a bender, and he wanted to give me alcohol. “It’s way too early in the morning for ale.” Actually it was