battle with you.'
'This is one battle you cannot avoid, sir. We are going to settle this matter between us. And we are going to do it now.'
'So be it. If it is a battle you want, you shall have one.'
Clare eyed him uneasily. 'My lord, let us be clear on this matter of who gives the commands on Desire.'
'Aye.' Gareth wandered over to another urn and peered inside. 'The first thing you must come to terms with, madam, is that I am not in your employ. You have not hired my services or my sword. I am your husband.'
'I am hardly likely to forget that. I am attempting to adjust to the business of being a proper wife, but you are making things exceedingly difficult.'
'You are not making it any easier on either of us by treating me as if I were little more than a hired guard.'
'By Saint Hermione's girdle, I do not treat you as if you were a hired guard.' Clare was outraged.
'I have attempted to show you the respect due a husband. It seems to me that I have given ground at every point.'
'Is that how you see the situation? You believe you have been forced to give ground?'
'Aye, that is exactly how it looks to me.'
Gareth propped himself against a table and folded his arms across his chest. 'What of me? Haven't I made similar compromises? Do you think it simple for me to adjust to this business of being a husband?'
'I fail to see what great difficulties you have had to encounter.'
'Shall I list them for you?' Gareth held up his hand and ticked up his complaints on his fingers. 'You have made it clear since the moment I arrived that I was not what you ordered.'
'You were unexpected,' Clare muttered.
Gareth ignored that. He held up another finger. 'You announced in front of the entire household that you did not intend to be a proper wife.'
'I agreed to share a bedchamber with you.'
'You refused to consummate the marriage on our wedding night.'
Clare was incensed. 'I told you this morning that I regretted that decision. It was wrong of me to refuse to do my duty last night.' She took a deep breath. 'I stand ready to do it tonight.'
He slanted her a derisive glance. 'Your duty? You'll forgive me if I fail to get overly enthusiastic about making love to a woman who feels that she is being forced to fulfill her responsibilities in the bedchamber.'
Clare had had enough. She stalked down the aisle and came to a halt directly in front of him. 'Is that why you refused to consummate our marriage this morning when I gave you the opportunity? You lost your enthusiasm for the task?'
Gareth narrowed his eyes. 'Do you blame me?'
Clare's temper flared out of control. 'If you no longer have any enthusiasm for the business, we are presented with a difficult problem, are we not?'
'What problem would that be?'
'I have it on good authority that, unlike a woman, a man cannot fulfill his husbandly obligations unless he is able to work up some degree of enthusiasm for the business.'
'Who told you that?'
'Prioress Margaret,' Clare shot back triumphantly.
'Ah.' Gareth nodded sagely.
'Do you dispute her statement?' Clare demanded.
Gareth shrugged. 'Nay. She has the right of it.'
'What are we to do, sir, if you fail to regain your enthusiasm? Mayhap we will be forced to annul the marriage.'
Gareth went dangerously still. 'So that is your plan. You think to end this union of ours before it is even begun.'
Clare looked into his eyes and saw the smoke from the fires of the nether regions. But she was too caught up in the flames of her own anger to rein in her wayward tongue.
'An annulment will certainly become a necessity if you are unable to work up sufficient enthusiasm for your husbandly tasks.'
'The good prioress neglected to tell you one important fact about a man's enthusiasm, madam.'
'And what would that be, my lord?'
'Sometimes the oddest things will arouse it.' Gareth smiled slowly. 'On occasion, for example, a good argument will do the trick.'
Too late Clare read the brilliant warning in his eyes. She stepped back quickly, but not quickly enough.
Gareth scooped her up into his arms, took three long strides across the workroom, and dropped Clare squarely into a huge bin full of fresh blossoms and herbs.
Clare shrieked as she sank into the fragrant mass. Rose petals and lavender leaves wafted into the air.
The intense scent of fresh flowers engulfed her.
Before she could catch her breath, Gareth plunged into the bin. His mouth covered hers as his weight crushed her into the mountain of soft, fragrant petals.
12
Clare was overwhelmed by the feel of Gareth's body sprawled on top of her. His hands tangled roughly in her hair. His mouth was fierce and hot and urgent on hers. His scent made her head whirl even more than the fragrance of the massed petals in which she lay half buried.
She forgot all about the argument, the insults, and the outrage that had gripped her a moment earlier. Memories of the way Gareth had touched her last night flooded back, only to be swamped beneath the new excitement.
A thrilling elation swept through her, driving all else before it. She wanted to know those glorious sensations again.
Gareth tore his mouth from hers. 'I congratulate you, madam. I know of no one else who can provoke me the way that you do. Now you must suffer the consequences.'
Clare searched his eyes. 'Are you truly angry with me?'
'I am not certain how I feel at the moment.' Gareth's voice was rough and dark and dangerous. 'I only know that when we have finished this, there will be no more talk of an annulment.'
She shivered. 'I never asked for an annulment. I only brought up the subject because you implied that you might not be able to do your duty in the marriage bed.'
'You will discover soon enough that I intend to fulfill my responsibilities.' Gareth bent his head and took her lips once more. His tongue invaded her mouth.
Clare's fingers clenched in his hair as she responded to the deep kiss.
He was attempting to intimidate her, she thought, mayhap even frighten her a bit. But it was impossible.
She craved his touch, and the obvious passion in him set her own clamoring feelings ablaze.
Clare felt his leg sink between her thighs. He drew his knee upward, opening her to his touch. He caught hold of the skirts of her overtunic and the gown beneath it and pushed both all the way to her waist.
Clare shuddered and tightened her hands in his hair. She arched herself against his probing fingers.
'You are as wet as roses after rain.' Gareth sounded awed. He stroked her the way he had last night, stroked her until she was trembling and desperate.
Clare clutched at him, her voice breaking on a soft, demanding little cry. She wrapped her leg around his, seeking more of him.
'Why in the name of all the saints did we waste last night?' Gareth whispered, his voice hoarse and
