Page 75 of Desire's Ransom
He furrowed his brows and checked to make sure no one else had heard. “What do you mean?”
She stood on her toes and pulled him down by his shirt so she could whisper in his ear. “’Tis about…gettin’ back what’s mine.”
Her breath tickled.
“What do you mean? What’s yours?”
Gray blinked a few times, as if she’d forgotten. She was obviously still under the influence of the ale. “Oh.” She shook her head. “I’m not s’posed to tell ye that.”
Now she had his interest. “You can tell me.”
“Nay,” she said, “I can’t.”
“I won’t tell a soul.”
She hesitated then, weaving on her feet in indecision as she gazed up at him with eyes full of worship. “Ye’re the most beautiful man I’ve e’er seen. I swear it.”
It was hard not to chuckle at her infatuated proclamation. “A warty frog is beautiful when you’ve drunk as much ale as you have, Lady Gray.”
She giggled, and the sound poured over him like water over a fall, clear and bubbly and refreshing.
But as soon as it trickled to a stop, her eyes grew sad again.
“Can’t ye just stay here?” She clutched his tabard in both hands now, like a desperate beggar. “Ye could join our band of outlaws.”
He snickered at the idea.
“Nay, truly,” she insisted. “I can teach ye how to use thebata, and we can stay here in the forest. Ye wouldn’t like that drafty old tower anyway. Stay with me here.”
A tiny part of him actually found that appealing. To dwell out here among the trees, beneath the stars, with very few possessions and very few ties was adventurous and romantic. To spend his days in the company of friendly folk and his nights in the arms of a woman as beautiful as Gray…
“Stay with me,” she purred.
But he’d made a vow—to his king, to the chieftain, to his bride. Above all else, he was a man of his word.
“Come,” he said. “We’ll talk about it on the morrow.”
Giving a short, low whistle to summon the hounds, he walked with her to their sleeping spot in front of the cave, letting her lean on him when her knees wobbled. He spread both of their cloaks on the ground and helped her to lie down.
He couldn’t help but smile as she sprawled across both cloaks with graceless abandon. Her eyes were closed before he could even snap his fingers to make the hounds lie at her feet.
He nudged her over to make room for himself. Then he stretched out beside her, gazing up at the heavens. The stars were beginning to appear, like bright raindrops against the violet sky.
He thought she was asleep.
She wasn’t.
“Ryland?” she murmured.
“Aye?”
“What were ye like as a lad?”
“A lad?” He crossed his arms over his chest and thought about it. “I don’t know. I suppose I was like any lad. My father taught me how to fight when I was young. My mother taught me how to be courteous.” He chuckled. “My older brothers taught me how to run very fast.”
She giggled.
“Ah, you’re laughing,” he said. “Did you have older brothers as well?”
