Page 28 of Propriety
“And you?” She asked, toweling the excess water out of her hair. “Will you rest, too?”
“Of course.” He nodded to the rug she was standing on. In a neat pile sat several folded blankets and a pillow. “Better accommodations than most places I’ve stayed, love.”
“That’s-” Silly? Uncomfortable? Ridiculous? A slew of words ran through her brain, but none of them seemed to fit.
“What’s appropriate.” He finished for her, raising an eyebrow. “You will sleep in the bed, and you won’t argue.”
Guinevere snatched the blankets off of the floor in a single motion, handing them back to the knight. “Don’t be stupid. You’ll catch cold.”
“Guinevere-” He started, frozen in place, jaw hanging open just slightly.
“I command it of you, knight. You are not to sleep on the floor.” She smiled, sitting on the far side of the bed.
“No.” He said quickly, stepping towards her.
“No?” She challenged, leaning forward on her hands.
“You’re on the other side,” His voice was so matter-of-fact, Gwen wasn’t sure if she should be proud or hurt.
“It hardly matters.” She brushed him off, waving her hand in the space between them.
“Move.” His voice dropped. “Or I will move you.” He set the blankets on the bed, edging towards her. “What sort of knight would I be if I slept away from the door?” He was closer to her now, and she could see the fire flaring in his eyes. “What sort ofmanwould I be if I let my lady be the first to face an intruder?”
Without another word, she shifted to the other side of the bed, avoiding his glare at all costs. Her insides were knotted up, breaths coming quick and heart racing. Why hadn’t she just let him sleep on the rug?
She wasn’t sure she could survive sleeping next to him. She swallowed, suddenly too aware of the space beside her, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he climbed in.
He didn’t touch her.
Of course he didn’t.
But the heat of him, so near and yet — not near enough, wrapped around her like a second blanket.
Guinevere tucked herself under the blanket, back to where her knight sat. Her hair was still damp, sticking to her skin as she tried to get comfortable.
Lancelot blew out the lantern on the bedside table, the room lit only by the gentle glow of the fire. Gwen shivered, but she felt anythingbutcold.
There was no way she could sleep, no way that her body would relax enough to get even a moment’s rest.
What a terrible idea.
13
She was warm.
That was her first thought as she woke slowly, caught somewhere between a dream and the steady thrum of reality. Her muscles had finally relaxed, and her body sank deep into the mattress, comfortable and content.
Guinevere could not remember a night where she had slept so soundly. Her entire body felt boneless as she lay wrapped up in the down blanket.
She shifted, nestling down in the sheets, trying desperately to cling to the last bit of sleep before she had to rise.
It was then that her mind woke enough to register the weight across her middle, the heat at her back.
The breath on her neck.
Lance’s hand was pressed against her stomach, holding her firmly against his chest.
A chest that, Gwen noted, hadn’t been bare when she drifted off last night.
