The hero strait up rapes the heroine in the first couple chapters. I get that this is a book from the 80s but this isn’t a case of mixed signals, being drunk or anything else that is typically used as an excuse. Nope he just rapes her and the only sliver of remorse he feels is because he realizes she was a virgin. Nope nope nope. I wanted to try to read all of LK books but this is going to be a DNF for me. So disappointing
I read a couple reviews that claim he redeems himself eventually but I honestly don’t even care and I don’t think I would consider anything short of taking a bullet for her (preferably in the dick) enough for redemption.
“Don’t do this to me. You could have anyone,” Rosalie panted, trying to escape the heat of him between her legs. Rand responded by settling more deeply against her, hard and impatient for the softness of her body. The light feminine scent of her, the young warmth of her flesh caused a hunger inside him that he had not felt in a long time. It was unexpected, the strength of this desire for a reluctant maid. “Please . . . I’ve never been with a man,” she whispered, pulling out her last card, and he stilled. Hazel eyes met brilliant blue in a split second of challenge. Momentarily Rand allowed himself to wonder if what she claimed was true. But it couldn’t be. Someone in her position and with her looks would have lost her innocence years ago. Comely housemaids were readily accessible and very desirable targets for men of almost any means and station.
“I don’t believe you,” Rand replied flatly. “It’s true, damn you!”
Prompted by painful arousal and the inexplicable necessity to have her, Rand closed his mind to the possibility that she was not lying. It must be, he reasoned, that she was afraid he would not recompense her well for her favors, or perhaps she was merely playing the tease to heighten his desire for her. He was well used to that game.
“Then,” he drawled insouciantly, “it seems I’m called upon to find proof of your claim.” He transferred both of her wrists into one hand. Her fingernails curved into fragile, translucent claws. Desperately Rosalie fought, but even in her fury there was little she could do to stop him. He stripped her garments off easily, with an offhand attitude that was as much an indignity as a physical violation. Her na*ed body quivered in reaction to the cool air and the unfamiliar experience of being revealed completely in the daylight. Sickly Rosalie closed her eyes as Rand inhaled slowly. He placed a warm, gentle hand on her finely structured rib cage, his reverent touch drifting upward along the velvet skin to the fullness of her breast. As he took its weight in his palm, the expert caress of his thumb brought the tender softness of her nipple to complete arousal. At the same time he bent over her other breast and took it into his mouth, the heated flick of his tongue sweeping over her again and again. Her soft skin, her quivering flesh . . . was so sweet . . .
As Rosalie struggled against him she realized he was ten times stronger. His body was hard and invulnerable, built for aggression, so very different from her own. The hair on his chest brushed against her skin like rough silk, the abrasion feeling unutterably strange. I don’t believe it is happening, Rosalie thought, frozen with shame as she pictured the scene from above. Herself, pale-skinned in the morning light, stretched out on the rumpled luxury of the bed, the man devoting his attention to the most private parts of her body as if he owned them. His dark amber hair gleaming immaculately, his large hands cupped around her, one of his legs insinuated between her tense and parted knees. She could barely hear through the labored rushing of her breathing and the drumming of her heart.
“This is disgusting,” she choked, and he dragged his mouth up to the fragile line of her jaw, careful not to disarrange the silk kerchief around her neck.
“A wounding observation. Usually my services are more highly recommended,” Rand said, his mouth curving in a momentary touch of humor. She turned her face away from him, clenching every muscle in rejection of what was occurring. She merely succeeded in imprisoning his leg more securely between hers. Then her breath caught in her throat as his hand stroked over the lowest part of her abdomen. “If you would relax, I believe this would all be more . . . tolerable to you,” he suggested gently, and Rosalie thought she would die of shock as his fingertips drifted in an idle pattern through her soft, light curls. The world was spinning crazily, its humming whirl resonating in her head. The scents of bare masculine skin and sandalwood soap drifted seductively to her nostrils.
“Don’t!” she choked, yet still the strange undreamedof caress continued while she lay under him like a block of ice. It deepened, intensified until he was stroking the snug, shrinking tenderness of her virgin flesh, watching her stiff expression curiously. He continued until two wavering tears of humiliation wound their way down the sides of her face, yet still he did not appear satisfied with her response. “When are you going to stop?” The words fitfully issued from her lips, and Rand’s mouth thinned. He discarded all efforts to make the act more pleasurable for her.
“You would prefer a fast-paced finale? I’ll endeavor to oblige you,” he said, and before she could take another breath he thrust into her, hard and demanding, rending her feminine softness without restraint. Rosalie cried out in surprise and pain, her body arching sharply into his in immediate reaction. The disembodied feeling returned as she realized that he had penetrated inside of her, that he remained there and was suddenly still as he stared into her dazed face. Rand whispered something, a trace of some undefinable emotion in his tone. He remained unmoving as Rosalie endured the uncomfortable sensation of being filled, too much and too deep. He held her face between his hands, but she would not meet his eyes or accept the touch of his mouth. She had not wanted to be possessed by him, neither did she want his consolation. Patiently he let her adjust to the feel of his body, allowing the first shock to wear off before he began to ease in and out of her with exquisite care.