“How can I help?”she asked.“What can I do?”
“Nothing.Not for a while.Perhaps a fortnight or two.We have to put Father James’s fears to rest.Convince him my intentions are sincere.”
She nodded and lowered her head.When she looked up again, there was a probing intensity in her gaze.She said softly, “What about your intentions as far as I’m concerned?”
That he could answer.He was even more sure of it now than ever.Now that he’d spent half the day pacing the wall in worry over her.
He lifted her hand to place a kiss on her palm, enclosing it there by folding her fingers over.
“You already have my heart,” he said.“I intend to give you my hand.”
It was a bold promise.One neither of them had the power to keep.After all, their futures were in the hands of the king.But Hew meant every word of it.
Carenza’s eyes brimmed with tears of joy.“Then I shall have patience.”
He kissed her brow.“What is a fortnight or two when we have our whole lives ahead of us, aye?”
A fortnight seemed like an eternity to Carenza.She’d never been in love before.And she’d only just begun to sample the joys of courtship.How could she survive without his smoldering glance, his warm embrace, his heart-melting kiss, his breathtaking caress?
“If we must starve for so long,” she murmured, lowering her eyes to linger on his delectable lips, “then let us feast tonight.”
Regret etched his face.“Och, lass, nothing would please me more.But we dare not.”
“Why?No one will know.”
“I will know.”
“But ye mean to marry me.”
“I mean to, aye,” he said.“But every king who wages war means to win.That isn’t always what fate decrees.”
She rested her head against his chest.Listened to the steady beat of the heart he said was hers.
Fate wouldn’t dare cross her.Not when their two paths had intersected at just the right time.Not when Sir Hew was a match her father actually wanted for her.Not when she was in love with a man who was politically perfect for her and her clan.It had to be.Theywere meant to be.
She knew he was only acting out of chivalry.He wished to protect her.To preserve her maidenhood.To safeguard her reputation.
But she didn’t need guarding.She wasn’t afraid.No one would find out.She was used to keeping up appearances, accustomed to hiding her emotions.Her trusty mask had always served her well.
She lifted languid eyes to his.“Just one kiss to remember ye by?”
He arched a scolding brow.
“One kiss…” Using the tip of her finger, she made a slow circle on the patch of bare flesh just above the neck of his leine.“To last a fortnight?”
He shivered.She saw his resolve wavering.
“And what if ’tis two fortnights?”he asked.
She gave him a sultry smile.“Two kisses?”
“You’re a wily wench.”He grabbed her finger to stop its circling.“Fine.One kiss.”He lifted her hand and gave the tip of her finger a quick peck.
She widened her eyes in disbelief.Then she closed them with diabolical purpose.Seizing the front of his plaid, she hauled him forward and smashed her mouth against his.
She meant it to be a crude act of vengeance.
But that didn’t last long.
