Page 13 of The Warrior's Innocent Captive

‘Yes, please,’ she said quietly. ‘And I think you should call me Linota. Mistress Leofric sounds too formal now that we are lying in the mud together.’

Once again she felt laughter rumble through him and she felt ridiculously pleased. She’d never seen the clinging woman make him laugh in return for her efforts.

His strong arm slipped around her waist once more and she felt him tucking his cloak around her body.

‘Are you sure you’re warm enough?’ she asked.

‘Aye,’ he said gruffly. ‘You don’t need to be afraid of me, though. If you’d like to get closer, I promise I will not take advantage of you.’

She slid nearer as her heart thudded in disappointment. Here she was, hyper-aware of his body, and he had no designs on her at all.

Her forehead brushed the solid wall of his chest and she settled. She might not ever cause his heart to flutter when he saw her, but maybe this experience would result in a friendship. She would have to be content with that.

Chapter Four

Something hovered on the edge of Linota’s consciousness. She tried to prise her eyes open, but they were weighed down with sleep. In this half-dreamlike state she was aware of a coldness seeping into every part of her body, freezing her toes and settling deep in her lungs. She stirred, trying to fold in on herself, to curl deeper into her covers and to warm even just a little part of her.

‘Linota,’ said a deep voice next to her ear.

Her eyes snapped open immediately.

Erik was so close, his face almost touching hers. This near she could see flecks of ginger running through his brown stubble and thin lines at the corner of his eyes.

‘Erik,’ she said on a breath.

His gaze snagged on hers and the lines around his eyes deepened for a moment, then he frowned.

‘We need to be quiet,’ he whispered. ‘I think somebody is out there.’

Her whole body stilled. Instinctively, she shifted closer to him.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, his fingertips lightly touching her skin, causing a delightful tingle to race down her spine. She frowned. How could her body be feeling such things when their lives were in danger?

He glanced at her face and snatched his hand away.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered and then added. ‘Please don’t worry. I won’t let any harm come to you.’

She nodded, her mind still on his gentle touch and the way he had taken his hand away so quickly. What had she done to cause him to act like that? She wanted to get his touch back, but she didn’t know how. Perhaps her enjoyment had been written all over her face and that had horrified him. Where he’d only intended comfort she had taken it for something else. She edged slightly away from him. She needed distance to think.

The small space didn’t allow her to back away far and the tiny sliver of a gap she managed to create did not help clear her mind.

Erik’s broad shoulders filled the tiny crevice in which they had wedged themselves. A creeping vine of ivy hung just above his head. She fixed her gaze on that and tried to rid her mind of all thoughts and feelings, forcing her body to calm and her pulse to return to normal.

They waited in silence. The only sound was Erik’s calm breathing. She concentrated on the steady in and out, willing her body to be as still as his.

She had almost succeeded when the sound of horses slowing to a stop could be heard close to where they were lying. She cringed into the back of the crevice. The hiding place didn’t seem big enough to cover them completely from whoever was out there.

‘I paid you quite handsomely, Gamel.’

Linota flinched as de Bevoir’s nasally voice filled the morning air. Erik’s hand came to rest on her hip. She risked a glance at his face. Sweat beaded across the skin of his forehead, his jaw pulled tight as he stared at the roof of their hiding place. A thrill of fear raced down her spine. Even though Erik was a hardened warrior, he obviously thought that de Bevoir and Gamel posed a real threat. Last night she had been in even greater danger than she’d thought.

‘You had one simple job,’ de Bevoir continued. ‘Get the girl and keep the girl. It wasn’t difficult and yet you’ve failed.’

‘She must ’ave ’ad help, de Bevoir. That fire ain’t starting by itself. They can’t ’ave gone far.’

‘You said that last night and yet we still haven’t found her and this so-called accomplice.’

‘A slip of a girl like that ain’t finding her way out of a sack.’

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