wondrous. What is it?” he asked.
“Gravy.”
“Do you have any left?”
She shook her head.
“That is na’ verra generous of you. I’m supposed to be in your care.”
“You are na’ supposed to be anywhere near me.”
He shook his head. Twice. “Na’ true. I heard the lady of the manor. You’re to make me well. How were you planning on doing this? With gravy?”
Sybil was starting to regret the odd weakness that had made her drain the mixture out the window, but that wasn’t any consolation. She didn’t know what was, though. This man had too many weapons at his disposal, and male presence was just one of them. As were the almost sensual looks he was giving from dark brown eyes, and the ease with which he put it all on display for her to view. He moved to fold immense, bared arms across his chest as he regarded her, making such a visual image of male perfection that she almost mouthed a sigh.
“You ken your way about a kitchen, do you?”
“What?” Sybil asked, and blinked. Several times. It didn’t help.
“You cook?” he continued.
“Oh. Aye. I cook. And I season.”
“Season?”
“With spices and herbs. To make the fare more tasty.”
“And is it?” he asked.
“I’m responsible for all the dishes served in the castle. Including the meat you have bribed my wolf with.” She couldn’t help the injured tone.
He grinned again. “Smarts a bit, does it?”
Sybil refused to answer. She hoped the tightening of her lips was the proper way to show that, but she didn’t know for certain.
“That’s what happens when you play with other’s lives and run across a master of it.”
“What?”
“You. Setting up things and playing with other’s lives and watching things happen. You. And me. Although I am a master at it.”
“You’re a master?”
“Look about. I am in your bedchamber, and you are na’ armed.”
“A woman does na’ need steel and wood to be armed.”
“What does she need?”
He’d prefaced the question with two steps toward her and lowered his voice at the same time. The shivers were horrid, the tightening in her nipples even more so, and the agitated breaths she was taking made it all so much worse.
Sybil realized she should have taken more than one step back, but there wasn’t much room left before she’d be banging up against one of the armoires she’d arranged about the room. That would have shown him that she felt threatened, which was sheer stupidity and obstinate besides. It was obvious she was feeling threatened.
She really should be doing more than breathing hard and looking up at him.
“You should na’ have unattached males in your chamber.”
At her gasp, he continued. “Actually, you should na’ have males in your chamber at all, attached or otherwise. ’Tis too much temptation.”
“You’re blind,” Sybil replied automatically.
One side of his mouth lifted. He took another step toward her, entering the space she needed for security, comfort, and protection. Except now. All she could think about now was the arcs of heat that seemed to be leaping from his body directly to hers. If she wanted to, she could swear she’d be able to touch them…and what was worse, they didn’t have far to travel.
He reached out and lifted a stray strand of hair off her shoulder. Sybil usually had it in two plaits on either side of her head, and then she wrapped those about the crown of her head to get the knee-length tresses out of her way and because it gave her much-needed height. She hadn’t had time to redo it this eve, and tendrils had escaped. She watched as he toyed with one, a mere handspan from her face.
“Well, I did take a blow to the head,” he said, finally.
Sybil snorted the giggle through her nose and made such a choked noise that he sobered. There was an instant release from the invisible thread keeping her tautly in place, and she slipped to the right of him and was over by her apothecary cabinet before he could react. The large, locked structure gave her a sense of comfort. Sybil put her back to it and faced him again.
He was right behind her and heaving a bit for breath. Which was odd. Such a thing as chasing a wench across a room shouldn’t require effort that made every bit of him look tensed and ready to pounce.
“You ken how lovely you are when you’re disquieted?”
“I am…not…disquieted.” Her words definitely were sounding like it, though. Lovely? Her heart actually lurched forward, startling her with the strength of it.
“Nae?” he replied.
“You are…my stepmother’s…lover. To. Be.” Sybil split the words between pants of breath. She tried to sound stern. It failed. She sounded young and breathless and excited, all of which was terrible.
“I am?”
She nodded.
“On whose authority?” he asked.
“Why else would you be here?”
“I came upon a fork in my path. I had a choice. I dinna’ ken that you lay in the midst of it, however.”
“Is there a truth in there somewhere?” Sybil asked with as much self-confidence as she could muster.
He tipped his chin down slightly and favored her with a half-slit look from his eyes. The instant result within her was frightening. She had to put her hands to her breast to prevent her heart from leaping right out onto her bodice. Her fingers were trembling, and as she clasped them together she realized the tremor went all the way through her.
This man knew the extent of his male potency, and he knew how to use it. She’d never been up against such. She’d never before believed it existed.
“You’re verra young,” he replied finally.
Sybil gasped for a breath, let it out slowly, and gasped in another. She didn’t answer.
“And now that I get a good look at you, without the disfigurement of yon cloak and veiling, I see that I was mistaken earlier.”
“About what?” And curse her own tongue for asking it!
“The blow dinna’ affect my sight, lady. Dinna’ fash on that. I was referring to your beauty. And my failure to spot it this morn.”
