For a moment, his arms tightened around her. “I will always keep you safe, Esme.”
“I know it.”
She did. She knew it with the whole of her being.
“Very well.” He lifted her chin and gazed deeply into her eyes. “If you promise to sleep under the covers.”
Yawning, Esme did as he bid, slipping under the blankets that he held open for her. “Why do you want me under the covers?”
He waited until she was settled on the pillows before leaning over and kissing her lightly on the lips. “I may be your protector, Esme. But I am also a man of flesh and blood.” He threw her a rueful smile as he stretched out beside her, his long limbs kept separate from hers by the layers of blankets between them. “I am not a saint.”
She reached up and kissed him, full on the mouth, but only for a moment. “I am glad to hear it.”
She was still smiling, minutes later, when she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Adam awoke tothe dance of sunlight on his face and the sound of singing in his ears. Immediately alert, his eyes focused on Esme, who was sitting at her writing desk with her little black cat on her knee. For a long moment, he was able to watch her unobserved, admiring her waterfall of golden hair and the grace of her long limbs as she hummed a melodic tune. Then she noticed he was awake, and the spell was broken.
“Good morn,” she said with a shy smile.
“I do not usually sleep so late.” Adam sat up and rubbed at his face with his hands, encountering a rough growth of stubble.
“You do not usually sleep in my chamber,” she responded lightly. “Is this the shape of things to come in our future?”
He smiled at her teasing, even though the idea of a future with Esme caused him equal parts pleasure and pain.
How can I, the son of a poor farmer and the servant of Rory Baine, have any kind of future with Esme de Neville?
But such ruminations were for another day. He must put them aside until the more pressing matter of Crispin had been dealt with.
“I shall have to remember that idleness is a sin.” He swung his legs onto the floor, noticing the deep creases in his breeches. Despite the strain of last night’s events, he felt well rested. Most likely because of where he had slept.
By Esme’s side.
Where he wanted to be.
Unable to deny himself the joy of her proximity, he crossed the chamber floor and dropped a kiss onto her upturned face.
“Good morn,” he whispered.
“Good morn.” She tugged on his shirt tails as he straightened up. “Is that all I am to receive?”
He feigned amazement. “You want more of my kisses, milady?”
“I do not want them. I command them.” Eyes dancing, she wrapped her fingers in his tousled hair and pulled his face back down to hers.
Adam kissed her willingly but then backed away laughing. “’Tis a terrible thing for me to confess, but all I can think is that I have not had my chewstick this morn.”
She pretended to pout. “Your concern is all for your appearance. Next you will be complaining that you have not combed your hair.”
“Ye Gods, I have not. Nor have I shaved the stubble from my cheeks.”
Esme rose from the chair and placed her palms at either side of his face, ignoring the cat’s mewl of protest.
“I like you with stubble on your cheeks.”
“Do you though? Even when I do this?” He rubbed his cheek alongside hers until she squealed with laughter.
