Page 21 of The Warrior's Innocent Captive

‘Ah!’ she yelped, dropping the logs she’d carefully collected.

‘Sorry.’ He moved towards her. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, let me help.’

Linota stood back as Erik arranged the logs and then placed tinder around the base.

‘Please pass me the strike-a-light.’ He held up his hand. ‘I keep it just above you.’

She reached up to the shelf above her. There was only one object to hand, which was lucky because she didn’t want to show her ignorance at not knowing what he was talking about. Lighting fires had never been something she’d done and now she was regretting letting Katherine take charge of everything. If only she’d learned some basic skills, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so much at the mercy of those men and now she wouldn’t feel so crushingly naive and young. Erik’s woman probably knew exactly how to light a fire and defend herself against marauding men.

Erik’s fingers brushed her skin as he took the strike-a-light from her, sending a delicate tingle across her skin. She snatched her hand away. Up until now she had enjoyed his light touches, even though they had been innocent, but if he had someone special in his life...

She missed what he did to start the fire, but soon the kindling had caught and yellow flames were licking the logs. The first wave of heat reached her. She sighed and held out her hands to the blaze even though it was still too small to really make a difference to her temperature.

Erik lit a couple of candles and placed them on the long table.

‘I don’t have much in the way of food here, but I can probably rustle up a couple of oatcakes from Cai’s saddlebags if you’re still hungry.’

‘I ate enough at the tavern, thank you.’ Linota didn’t think she could eat anything right now. Her stomach was still in knots over her recent deductions.

‘Ah, right. Shall we warm ourselves by the fire then?’

Erik pulled two chairs up to the hearth. He disappeared into a far corner and returned with a rug. He settled it over one of the chairs. ‘Sit on this and I’ll wrap it around you.’

Linota’s heart stuttered over his gentle care.He’s either married or betrothed,she reminded herself.Don’t take this gesture as any more than solicitude over a guest.

She rearranged the rug around herself and stared into the flames, absentmindedly running her fingers over the arm of the chair. The wood was as smooth as silk under her touch.

Next to her Erik shifted in his seat. ‘Are you comfortable?’

‘Oh, yes, this is an incredibly comfortable chair. Your wife has excellent taste.’

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t meant to be so blatant, but the words had flown out of her without her permission.

Erik laughed softly. ‘I don’t have a wife.’

‘Oh, your betrothed then?’She glanced across at him quickly. He was watching the flames with a small smile playing over his lips.

‘I am not betrothed to anyone. As for the chairs, I made them myself.’

‘Really?’ she said, sitting upright and running her fingers over the smooth wood once more. ‘But they are beautiful.’

‘I am not just Borwyn’s mindless thug.’ Erik smiled at her, but she had the impression he was only pretending to laugh at himself.

‘I never thought you were. I only imagined that your work for Borwyn would keep you almost constantly busy. I can’t see when you’d have the time to make such exquisite pieces.’

Linota didn’t say, but she’d pictured him spending his free time fighting or spying for Borwyn. Any time he had left after that was for seducing willing widows, like the one who had hung on his arm at Ogmore’s fortress and whose adoring eyes Linota had thought about scratching out more times than she would care to admit to herself.

‘I find working with wood, carving something out of nothing, calms me.’

Linota continued to run her hands over the arms of the chair, imagining the effort it would take to make something so perfect. She tried to dismiss the image of him working over the wood, the strong muscles of his forearms flexing as he moved. Even though she knew he didn’t have a wife, such thoughts were inappropriate.

‘Did you make that little horse carving? The one I saw on my brother’s wedding day?’ she asked eventually. She didn’t remember exactly what the little animal had looked like, only that it was made with the same dedicated care.

There was a long pause. She remembered how strangely he had reacted after the horse had fallen from his belt. She frowned at the fire. It was such an innocuous item and yet it seemed to hold mysterious claim over him.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed after such a long pause she’d thought he wouldn’t respond. He didn’t elaborate further. Her mind buzzed with questions, but she kept her mouth shut.

Erik threw another log on to the fire, the bright sparks lighting up the side of his face. Linota wished she could reach across and touch him. She wanted to know what was going on in his mind. There were so many different sides to him. He was Borwyn’s enforcer and right-hand man, the one who was willing to get his hands dirty while Borwyn stayed out of such affairs. He was the man whose laughing eyes took nothing too seriously and who had kept her entertained during the long afternoons of riding. But he was also the man with such an incredible artistry, a side to him he clearly kept hidden from everyone else.

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