“You’re exhausted,” she insisted, sitting up. “And it is your bed. I feel rather cruel taking it for myself while you sleep half folded in that blasted chair. Especially after the day we’ve had.”
Despite everything, his burns, the smoke in his lungs, the ashes still clinging to him, he let out a low laugh.
She tucked that one loose strand of hair behind her ear. He could see she was a wound ball of nerves.
“Please,” she added quietly.
They called himThe Savage, yet that one simple word spoken from her lips undid him.
He gave a stiff nod, not trusting his voice, and moved toward the bed, lowering himself slowly onto the far side. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling above, inches from her, but feeling every ounce of tension between them.
Silence settled. It was soft and warm and edged in something Halvard dared not put a name to.
“Halvard?” Elsie whispered.
“Aye?” His heart thudding so loudly in his chest, he was sure the lass could hear it.
“You were extraordinary today.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat as something tightened in his chest. “I only did what needed tae be done.”
“No,” she said. “You did far more than that.”
“Ye surprised me as well,” he said letting out a slow breath.
“How so?”
“Ye were everywhere ye were needed,” he replied turning his head toward hers in the darkness. “Helpin’ wi’ those who were wounded. Comfortin’ th’ bairns. Workin’ beside folk who ordinarily wouldnae trust an English woman. Ye didnae falter once.” He let the compliment linger before adding. “Ye’re an incredible woman, Elsie.”
She inhaled sharply, as though unused to hearing such a thing. He felt a flare of anger toward anyone in her life who would not have cherished her as she deserved.
He hesitated, then asked the question that had been gnawing at him since hehad watched her with his clan at the village square.
“Ye kent how tae speak tae those who lost today. How tae see tae them without making them feel weak. Dae ye ken grief, lass?”
“Where I’m from,” she said softly, “we don’t show such raw emotion. Not publicly, nor even privately.”
He frowned in the dark. “That’s nay natural.”
“I cried alone when my father died,” she whispered. “I didn’t allow anyone to see… it didn’t feel… appropriate.” She took in a deep breath. “My mother died giving birth to me. My sister, Selene, is the closest I’ve ever had to a mother.”
He shifted closer to her, on instinct, no thought. He was unable to stay so distant while her voice trembled.
“Dae ye miss her?” he asked gently.
“Terribly,” Elsie breathed. “And knowing she’s worried for me, I can feel it, its horrid, like a weight I can’t put down.”
A hollow ache flickered in her voice, and something inside his chest broke clean in two. Without hesitation he reached for her hand under the blankets. She startled but did not pull away. Her fingers curled into his, fitting as if they had always belonged there.
“Ye ken ye’re safe here,” he said.
“Halvard…”
She shifted toward him, so quietly and slowly, he nearly missed the movement. Their foreheads brushed, then their noses. His free hand slid to her cheek, her skin so very soft and warm under his calloused hand. His eyes now adjusted to the dark, he watched her as she lifted her eyes to his, wide and searching. That was the moment he knew he was lost to her. Completely lost.
He bent his head ever so slightly and touched his lips to hers. Soft at first, merely a whisper of touch. When she did not pull away but instead let out a small whimper, he went for her mouth again; that time the kiss was deeper. She lifted her hands to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer. Her breath hot against his own as she pressed her body to his.
His self-control snapped tight, strained, begging to break as he sought more of her with his mouth.
