I retrieve them.” With efficient movements, she withdrew the blankets and started to make a pallet, anything to try to keep her mind off Seathan, off a man who made her too aware of herself as a woman.
After all these years, and all the many men she’d met, nobles, knights, warriors from other countries, none had ever inspired but a token of interest. Now, she was attracted to a Scottish rebel who, if he learned of her connection to Fulke, would use her as leverage against her brother. And his trust? No, the pittance she’d earned would be forever lost.
“Linet?”
Seathan knelt beside her, his eyes too sharp, his nearness too potent. “What is wrong?”
The sincerity in his voice unnerved her further. “Nothing, I am but making a pallet.”
“You are shaking.”
She glanced down to find her hands trembling—from thoughts of him. She swallowed hard. “I am tired.”
“Aye, af-after traveling through the night, we both need rest.” He lifted the edge of the blanket near him and helped spread it out.
“I told you to wait until I was done.”
Seathan scowled. “I am a knight, not a crippled old man.”
“You never need anyone, do you?” she asked, annoyance slipping into her voice.
Fevered eyes narrowed. “And what of you? Who do you need?”
“No one,” she replied, and immediately regretted allowing her question to become personal. She shook her head. “Lie down and rest.”
“You will do so as well.” By the ire in her eyes, Seathan expected her to argue. To his surprise, she nodded. Unsure how much longer he could remain on his feet, he lowered himself on the blankets. Every muscle in his body screamed, but they had made it to safety.
The soft weight of worsted wool covered him. “Here is my rolled cape to put beneath your head.”
Though her voice was cool, her thoughtfulness touched him. A part of him had expected her to leave, not remain, nor tend to him as one who cared about him. Aye, she cared—that he lived. But she’d freed him from the cell for her own purpose.
Why?
They both had their secrets, he reminded himself as he watched her gracefully move about. How would she react if she learned the rebels were planning an uprising? The bloody English were confident they’d conquered Scotland, a foolish belief. His countrymen were a different breed compared to the thin-blooded Englishmen. Unlike the Sassenach, the Scots would not cease to pursue their goal of freedom, regardless of the odds.
“Here.” Linet handed him a cup with water.
Seathan drank slowly, the cool water heaven against his parched throat. He drained the wooden cup then handed it to her; their fingers brushed. Awareness poured through him in a lethal sweep.
“My thanks,” he said.
Linet’s eyes dilated as if she, too, had felt the heat. She nodded, turned away. “Go to sleep.”
The foolish woman. Even in his condition, he could see her weariness. “I—I said you will rest as well.”
She stiffened. “I will, eventually. For now I will keep watch.”
He shifted, winced at the pain. “Nay. You wi-will lie now or I will drag you down here if necessary.”
“I…” She again checked his wounds as if they were her only concern, but he saw through her guise.
He shot her a warning look.
With a nervous glance, she slipped between the covers beside him.
Exhausted, satisfied that she’d stay, and ignoring the brush of their bodies, Seathan closed his eyes and succumbed to the inviting bliss of sleep.
Silence.
Long seconds passed.
The slow rise and fall of his chest assured Linet the rebel was asleep. She allowed herself to relax. It was amazing he’d held out this long.
Seathan shifted onto his back. Sunlight caressed the hard planes of his face, and the shadow of a full beard over his square jaw. In rest, his expression softened, hinted at lines carved by laughter. Intriguing. Lord Grey did not strike her as a man who would relax enough to give way to humor.
He mumbled in his sleep.
Drawn, she watched him. Her mouth tingled with remembrance of his lips covering hers. A mere kiss and he’d almost destroyed her. What would it be like if they made love?
Heat stroked her face at her untoward thoughts. She dismissed them. They were but musings. Without his awareness of them, they hurt no one.
Curious, Linet leaned closer, drawn to the man who was as great a mystery as a threat. His warmth curled around her, his inner strength as inherent as his domineering force.
Tiredness washed over her, but a sense of peace as well.
Peace?
Odd when her life at this moment held naught but chaos.
His steady breaths lulled her, as did the safety she felt by his side. She yawned, slid a hand’s breath toward him, and for the first time in many days, slipped into an undisturbed sleep.
Seathan opened his eyes, his senses alert. The aches of his body provided an immediate reminder of his escape from the dungeon, and the morning sun streaming into the cave was an indicator that a day had passed. He glanced down at the lass.
Not any lass. Linet.
With his mind clear, he studied her as she slept, noting how her slender body curled against his with innocent trust. Her cheek lay flush upon his chest, her lashes crafting perfect half-moons against her ivory skin, and her long amber-gold hair loosened from its braid now framing her face.
His gaze drifted to the curve of her mouth. Memories ignited of their heated kiss within the cell, of the passion, the unexpected rightness of it that had scorched his soul.
Nay, ’twas only his mind’s haze from the torture he’d endured that invited such randy thoughts. Regardless of a woman’s passion in bed, well he understood their capacity for treachery. Though an innocent, Linet was still a stranger, a woman with secrets, far from a person he could care for, much less trust.
What had driven her to give him his freedom? The reason involved Tearlach, of that he was sure.
Throat dry, he again took in the inviting lines of her mouth. If he kissed her again, would her taste be different? He lowered his mouth a degree, her soft breaths tumbling over his cheek, her warmth inviting him closer. His body hardened, trembled with anticipation.
Bedamned he would know.
He claimed her mouth. A soft moan escaped her as he guided her, teased her, savored the supple lips that slowly responded.
Thick lashes
