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her anatomy he had just described.
    As for her unfinished threat, it only seemed to amuse him.
    “You shall ... mete out some dire punishment?” His intoxicated voice was now laced with laughter. She could hear him sitting up. “Allow me to offer a suggestion that would be most effective: kiss me into submission.”
    He got out of bed.
    She remembered vividly that he wasn’t wearing a thing.
    “Don’t! Don’t come near me!” she cried desperately, tearfully, helplessly, holding up one hand as if that would be enough to hold him off.
    To her surprise, she heard him stop and sit back down on the mattress. She still couldn’t see him. Though her eyes were adjusting, he was still nothing more than a black shadow in the darkness.
    When he spoke, he sounded a bit more sober and serious. “Do I frighten you, petite? ” he asked with genuine surprise. “Why?”
    “Why?” she echoed incredulously. Despite the fact that he had backed off—for the moment—she was so terrified of this naked stranger who had invaded her room and her bed that her head swam dizzily and her tongue seemed incapable of forming anything more than that one stunned syllable.
    “ Chérie , was I ... rough with you last night?” The words were reluctant and edged with a sharpness aimed at himself. “I was well into my cups at the feast, but I cannot believe I would ... Saints’ breath, I apologize, demoiselle, if I was less than gentle.” He stood up again. “Allow me to—”
    “No!” she squealed. To her surprise, he stilled again.
    He didn’t sit back down, but he didn’t make another move toward her. “I only intend,” he said softly, “to make up for whatever drunken behavior last night left you so fearful of me that you would injure yourself trying to get away.”
    He stayed where he was. Incredibly, he seemed to be allowing her the next move.
    Celine couldn’t begin to figure out what was going on. Nothing in her life had prepared her for such a bizarre encounter. “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about and I don’t care! I’m ... I’m getting up and I’m getting out of here. I’m going out that door, and if you try to stop me, I’ll—”
    “I would never do aught to force a woman, chérie ,” he assured her quietly. “Leave, if that is what you wish.”
    Her mouth dry and her heart in her throat, Celine managed to get to her feet, slowly, painfully. She couldn’t move much farther than that. She hobbled one step and stood there, swaying unsteadily, teeth chattering, unable to run if her life depended on it—which it just might.
    After a moment, his voice sounded again from the darkness.
    “Do you wish me to carry you out?” he offered lightly.
    Celine realized just how ridiculous her predicament was. As he was so subtly pointing out, if he intended to hurt her, he could do it in a second and there was nothing she could do to stop him. “No,” she insisted stiffly. “I’ll be fine on my own.” She took only one limping step, and even that made her inhale sharply with pain.
    “Mayhap I could hold the door for you?”
    His teasing tone made her laugh. She couldn’t help it. He had had ample opportunity for rape, kidnapping, murder, or anything in between by now. Instead, he was keeping his hands to himself and tossing out one-liners.
    “I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I’m standing here laughing with a naked stranger in my room.”
    “The room is mine, chérie . As is every other in the chateau.”
    He must be much more drunk than he sounded, Celine thought; he was having delusions of grandeur. She tried to calm down and think. He hadn’t made any threatening moves toward her. Yet. Perhaps there was some rational explanation for all this. She limped two steps and reached for the lamp on her dresser.
    The lamp wasn’t there.
    Neither was the dresser.
    Her fear returned in a rush. “What is going on? ” she asked in a small voice.
    “Alas, I am no more certain than