“Indeed?” She stopped and turned to look at him. “You do not court me. You do not intend to rape me. . . . Why, then, Robin Hood, are we still here? Ah. It must be that you intend to hold me for ransom. It certainly cannot be that you’ve been giving me mooning dog eyes and preening about like a cock so that I will kiss you.”

“So that is what you want,” Robin said, his eyes narrowing in delight. A smile tickled his mouth. He was in front of her in a moment, his hands closing around her upper arms, his feet planted on the hem of her gown. “A kiss. Why did you not say so, Lady Alys?”

Her blue eyes flashed sparks and her luscious mouth opened, but Robin found a most efficient way to close it. And to block out the pretend outrage in her eyes.

He dragged her up against him, his mouth on hers, at last touching those lush, top-heavy lips. She stiffened against him, pushing. He was gentle . . . but firm. Alys tasted as sweet as he’d expected, her tongue small and slick and naive, tangling with his stronger one.

He closed his mouth over that full top lip that so enticed him, gently sucking and licking it, unable to get enough of the taste, of the softness. Her breasts crushed into his chest, and the thick locks of her hair tangled in his fingers as he smoothed his hands up her slender back, pulling her close . . . melding her against him.

At last she wrenched her face away and the next thing Robin knew, his right ear was ringing from the slap.

He could not recall the last time he’d been slapped by a woman.

In fact, he couldn’t remember any time that he’d been so rebuffed.

“I shall have the sheriff after you,” she spit, her blue eyes furious. “How dare you!”

Robin didn’t have the energy to laugh at her threat. He was out of breath, the room still spun, and ’sblood, her lips were even more lush now. Her cheeks burned pink; her hair-its fashioning having long fallen out-swirled about her hips, where her hands were now planted like those of an angry fishwife.

“I do believe the sheriff is already after me,” Robin said when he’d caught his breath.

“I shall tell him where your hideout is,” she retorted.

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, though he wasn’t quite certain why. He’d just been slapped by this little fairy of a woman, his cheek still throbbed from it, and he couldn’t wait to get her back into his arms again. “You are fortunate that I am not of the ilk of some other bandits that lurk about in these woods. Such men would be more likely to slay you on the spot than allow you to carry tales.”

For the first time, her bravado faltered. But then the sparkle was back in her eyes. “But you shall demand a ransom for me, and will move me, well hooded, I trow, to another safe place so that I cannot carry tales.”

“My, how much you know of the tricks of an outlaw, Lady Alys.”

“Nay, ’tis naught but common sense that I speak.”

“But now you speak of ransom . . . so you’ve decided to stay with us, then, Lady Alys? Not in so much of a hurry to leave?” Robin asked. “And I would have returned you to Ludlow this very moment. But instead, I must cipher a ransom note.” He tsked, shaking his head. “But how much are you worth, my lady?”

Alys tossed her head. “Send a ransom note, then,” she scoffed. “The sheriff will use it as an opportunity to capture you.”

“Nottingham could not capture me if I came and stood in his chamber at Ludlow,” Robin felt compelled to say. He didn’t care for the way she spoke about Nottingham, the certainty and admiration in her voice for the black devil.

“I trow he would not force his kiss upon a lady,” she added, with a surprisingly sharp bolt to his heart. One of her blond eyebrows rose in a perfect arch.

“So ’tis Nottingham you desire,” Robin said. “I find that difficult to believe, for the ladies I know turn tail and run when he approaches. They fear him as the villagers do.”

“I do not think he is as cruel as he appears,” Alys replied with startling perception. “He is angry, but he does not take it out on the innocent.”

“The tales that come to my ears speak otherwise.”

She lifted her chin again. “And they are tales, and nay more. I’ve not seen it. And he certainly doesn’t force kisses upon the women.”

“And so we are back to the kisses once more,” Robin said, finding himself moving closer to her again. “Mayhap I shall demand a ransom of sorts from you, rather than money from your father . . . or husband.”

“Is that your inept way of trying to learn who shall be after your head once I am freed?” Alys retorted. But she did not step back this time, instead standing her ground as he placed himself directly in front of her. A lock of her hip-length hair curled boldly out, nearly brushing against his tunic just above the belt.

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