Warrior Rising - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,17

day.

Keeping firm hold of her, Harrison led the small group across the paved street to where numerous vehicles sat. A parking garage. She knew the words, for she acquired language instantly, though it was taking her far longer to make sense of it all than it would if he'd simply let her touch a human and learn what they knew. The man was so irritatingly distrustful.

On the second level, they came to a stop behind a small, bright blue car. A series of beeps sounded, the lights flashing. As the Marceil started around the left side of the conveyance, Harrison tugged her right, pulling something from his pocket.

Ilaria glanced down, afraid he was going for the lighter again. Instead, he'd removed something metal. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with anger as she identified the manacles that now hung from his fingers.

Her eyes snapped upward as she speared him with a sharp, stinging gaze. "You risk my ill will, human. A dangerous thing to do considering what you need of me."

"Sorry, Princess." But his tone held not the slightest edge of remorse. Instead, he pulled on her arm, snapping one loop of metal around her wrist before she could stop him.

Ilaria tried to jerk her other hand out of his reach, but he merely turned her, pushing her against the car, face-first, and snapped the second manacle around her other wrist. Only one other time in her entire life had she been treated so poorly - the morning she was hauled from her bed, accused of treachery and transported to the Forest of Nightmares.

If only she had magic that would work against a Sitheen!

She kicked back at him, but her gown hampered her movement and her heel collided with his shin with little more than a dull thud. He moved closer, pinning her against the car, pressing a hard ridge into her lower back. She stilled, taking a harsh breath, feeling his desire. Inside her, an answering need flared.

"Release me."

"Not on your life." His voice sounded close to her right ear.

Then mate with me, she wanted to say, but held her tongue, knowing she'd only anger him further.

Sliding one arm around her waist, he pulled her back against his muscular chest, the hard length of his erection nestled firmly against her. He opened the door, then slid to the right, his hand once more only around her arm.

"Get in."

She glared at him over her shoulder. "Not until you start treating me with respect."

Gripping her shoulders, he wrenched her around to face him, reminding her how much bigger he was than her. Overpowering her with his sheer maleness.

"Cooperate, Princess, and we'll get along fine." He speared her with hot, hard eyes. "Don't, and we may find you more trouble than you're worth."

A cool trickle of fear slid down her spine, but she met him glare for glare. "You won't end me. You need me."

"Do you really want to test that theory?" He let the question, heavy and disquieting, hang between them. "Get in the car, Ilaria, or I'll pull out the lighter again."

"You're a barbarian."

"No. But neither am I a fool. I'll show you the respect due your rank when and if I decide to trust you. Until then, you're the enemy."

She stared him down, refusing to bend. "You risk everything you want, human."

He didn't reply. Instead, his hand went to his pocket and that hated lighter.

With a huff of anger, Ilaria forced down her pride and slid into the low-slung automobile as he'd demanded.

Harrison followed her, leaning across her to pull yet another restraint across her chest. Desperately, she tried to ignore him, struggling against the physical appeal of the man, but his nearness filled her senses all over again. His scent was a heady mix of the strange facets of the human's modern realm - the air in the airplane, the lingering scent of some intriguing aftershave. But also of wool and wind and warm, masculine male. And she wanted.

"Why are you tying me down? Are you afraid I'll attack you with my teeth?"

He glanced at her, his strong face only inches away, so close she could see flecks of gold in his eyes. Heat swirled in those gray-green depths as they caught hold of hers, holding her fast. In his cheek, a muscle leaped. Between his eyebrows, a frown slowly appeared, a pair of tiny lines like the arc of bird wings.

"Believe it or not," he said softly, his voice no longer filled with anger, "the seat belts are