“If ye keep thinking such dark thoughts ye will ne’er get the sleep ye need.”
“And you wish me to cease talking so that you can go to sleep.”
“Aye, there is that.” He grinned when she laughed softly.
“Sleep safe, Sir Murray.”
He decided that was a very good wish, and softly returned it. It would be nice to sleep safe for a change, to not have to keep one eye open. Nigel realized he had grown deeply weary of war, of fighting to stay alive. It was going to be good to be back at Donncoille, back where there were many who were willing to watch his back so that he could rest secure.
It would be good for Gisele, too, he mused as he gently slipped one arm around her. Guy was right. She would not be as safe as he had hoped for. But she would at least be able to sleep secure. He wondered only briefly if it were wrong to bring such trouble to his clan. They would be more than willing to help a woman in such desperate trouble.
Yet again he had evaded another chance to speak of home, to warn Gisele in some small way about what he had left behind. He was courting trouble there, knew that he ought to give Gisele some small hint of why he had left home, but he was a coward. Pride also stopped him. It was embarrassing to know he had fled the land and the people he loved because he wanted his brother’s wife and was not sure he could trust himself to behave with honor as long as he was close to her. It was certainly not a confession that would win Gisele to his side, either.
Another reason he held silent was that if he told her the whole truth she was sure to ask questions, and he did not have any answers—none that would soothe the suspicions she was sure to have. When she did find out that he had left Scotland because he was in love with his brother’s wife, and that the woman looked a lot like her, Nigel wanted to be able to look Gisele square in the eyes and truthfully swear that it was not why he wanted her. He could not do that yet. What worried him was that he might not be able to do that until he stood at the gates of Donncoille and could look from one woman to the other. And he still dreaded that moment of truth, still feared that he might never be able to say those things to Gisele.
She murmured softly in her sleep and turned toward him, huddling closer to his warmth. Nigel sighed and wrapped his arms around her. She allowed him these small embraces when she was asleep. It could be a good sign.
The way his body tautened with hunger as he held her close seemed real and honest enough—it was Gisele he saw and Gisele’s name upon his lips—but the poison of uncertainty still lingered in his heart. He had never loved a woman as he had loved Maldie, and he could not be sure a man could recover from that.
Until he knew the answer to that he should leave Gisele alone, but Nigel knew he would not do that, either. He liked the feel of her in his arms, liked the taste of her, the smell of her. He wanted to be her lover, wanted to savor her passion, and he knew he would not have the strength to turn her away just because he could not understand his own heart.
There was one other solution to his problem and he inwardly grimaced, feeling the bite of shame that he would even consider it but unable to cast it aside. If he still had not explained everything to Gisele by the time they reached Donncoille, if he still had no honest idea of who held his heart in her small hands, when she saw Maldie and turned to him for an explanation he would lie. He would look her straight in the eyes and tell her whatever she needed to hear. It made him uneasy, and it was far from honorable, but it would be the kindest thing to do. In the end it could come to a choice between maintaining his sense of honor or cruelly hurting Gisele. Faced with that choice, Nigel knew which way he would go. Gisele deserved a little kindness. And if he had taken Gisele as his lover without even knowing if he could truly love her, then he deserved to pay for that.
Nine
Her dream was so nice, so sweet yet exciting, that Gisele did not want to wake up. Nigel was touching her, slowly moving his big, strong hands over her body, and there was no fear, only passion. She knew this was how it was supposed to be, and did not want dark memory to spoil it. Soft lips touched hers, and she clung tightly to the man who held her in his arms. Just once she wanted to taste what the minstrels all sang about.
“Gisele,” Nigel whispered against the soft skin of her neck, “look at me.”
“Non.” She shuddered beneath his touch as he lightly stroked her breast.
“Come, lass, look at me. I want ye to ken who is touching you.”
She closed her eyes even tighter and shook her head. “Can you not leave me in the dream?”
“Nay, for that is a lie.”
“It is a nice lie.” The warmth of his breath caressed her as he laughed against her shoulder.
She slowly opened her eyes. It made her a little uncomfortable to look at the man while he was touching her so intimately, and she wondered why he insisted that she do so. She had been letting him have his way. It seemed to her that it would have been wiser to just let it happen, to not disturb the moment in any way.
“I knew it was you,” she said, surprised at how soft and husky her voice was.
“For the moment. Before, with your eyes closed, your thoughts went their own way, slipping into the past and resurrecting all your fears.”
“Opening my eyes could resurrect my sense of modesty.”
“At least that would be a refusal of me, and not of your ghosts.”
Gisele gasped softly as he slid his hands down her back and then pressed her closer. She did not really feel inclined to refuse him, even though she knew honor and modesty demanded it of her. What he said made an odd kind of sense, but she knew it was going to be a struggle to keep her eyes open. With each new feeling that sped through her body she felt compelled to close her eyes, as if by doing so she could savor those feelings more fully.
It surprised her when she moved her body against his, silently asking for something she had thought she would never wish to endure again. She shyly moved her hands over his back, enjoying the feel of hard muscle and smooth skin. Nigel did not remove his braies, however. He made no move at all to try to complete their feverish lovemaking.
Nigel slid his hand up between her thighs, and Gisele cried out in a mixture of shock and delight. He took swift advantage of her parted lips and kissed her. A small voice told her she should be outraged that this man would touch her so intimately, but she ignored it, opening to his touch even as she greedily returned his kiss. She did not understand what he was doing to her, but she liked it too much to turn away from it.
He kissed the hardened tip of her breast, then gently sucked through the thin linen of the shirt she still wore. All the while he continued to stroke her. Gisele kept trying to wrap her body around his, but he still made no attempt to join their bodies. He just kept kissing her and stroking her. She was almost ready to speak, to risk ruining the moment by breaking the silence, when she was suddenly robbed of the wit and the ability to say anything.
Fierce, blinding feelings tore through her body, and she cried out Nigel’s name. He replied with a hungry kiss, holding her tightly as her body shuddered. It was a long time before Gisele regained her senses, and then she swiftly began to feel both confused and embarrassed. Nigel still lightly caressed her. She briefly considered breaking free of his hold, then realized that his touch calmed her, soothed away her beginning sense of humiliation.
