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First published July 1, 1997
" “You will be my wife,” he said. “You will have no secrets.”
“Will you?” It was an outrageous question, and another man would have beaten her for it.
But Simon, avowed monster that he was, merely smiled. “Always, Lady Alys,” he murmured. “Always.”"
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" She looked at him sternly, but he seemed totally unmoved by her disapproval. “I weep for you, my lord,” she said.
“Weep for yourself, my lady. You’ll be shackled to me for life.”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting,” she said blithely, “I’ll have all those stalwart knights to distract and entertain me.”
He laughed, and it was a strangely charming sound. “Unless you drive me to murder you first.”
“Do you murder women, then, my lord?”
“I haven’t yet, my lady. I usually restrict my murderous activities to those who deserve them. But I’m open to new experiences.”"
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" “Hideous torture,” Lady Hedwiga said with a grim nod of her head. “It is brutal, painful, wet, and disgusting—”
“Wet?” Alys echoed in surprise.
“You will bleed and wish you were dead,” Hedwiga continued, ignoring the interruption. “And there is no escape from the horrors until you either quicken with child or die. The latter would be preferable, since once the child is born your husband will want to commence his foul rutting once more.”"
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" She opened her eyes to look at him, and in their glazed depths he could see a mass of tangled emotions.
“I hate you,” she said.
“I know.”
“If you touch me again, I’ll see to it that you really are unmanned.”
“I know.”
Her furious eyes met his. “I love you,” she said, her voice rich with loathing.
“I know,” he said and kissed her."
She was slipping down on the bed as the drug took possession of her, slowly, languorously. “I’m afraid of you,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t remember. “I’m afraid of loving you.”
She blinked, dazed. “You’re afraid of making love to me?” she said, her voice gently, sweetly slurred.
“No,” he said bleakly. “I’m afraid of loving you, when I haven’t loved anyone in years. It would destroy me.”
Her eyes drifted closed, but a sweet smile curved her mouth. “Then perhaps,” she whispered, “you need to be destroyed.”