A Kingdom of Dreams (Westmoreland, #1)

by Judith McNaught

“You are mad!” she snapped, her chest heaving. “And you are a devil!” “And you, my dear,” Royce imperturbably replied, “are a bitch.” With that, he turned to the horrified friar and unhesitatingly announced, “The lady and I wish to be wed.”

Lifting his head, Royce stared down into her slumberous blue eyes, and Jenny saw the look of pure satisfaction mingled with puzzlement on his face— “Why is it when you yield, I feel like the one who has been conquered?”

“I was referring to the celebration tonight,” he interrupted firmly, “not what is going to happen afterward, between us. However, since we’re on the subject,” he continued, surveying her panicky expression, “suppose you tell me why the prospect of lying with me suddenly seems to frighten you so.” “I’m not frightened,” she denied desperately, thinking it might be a mistake to admit to any form of weakness. “But having already done it—I simply feel no desire to do it again. I felt much the same about— about pomegranates. After I tried them, I just didn’t want them any more. I’m like that sometimes.” His lips twitched, and he advanced on her until he was standing directly in front of her. “If lack of wanting is what alarms you, I think I can remedy it.”

“Why is it,” Royce murmured, gazing into her intoxicating eyes, “that every time you surrender willingly, like this, you make me feel like a king who has conquered. Yet when I conquer you against your will, you make me feel like a defeated beggar?”