Her heart fluttered.Against her better judgment, she searched his eyes.She realized he was telling the truth.“Ye saw me,” she said in wonder.“No one’s e’erseenme before.”
His gaze softened in the moonlight, warming her to her toes.“I find that hard to believe.”
“’Tis true.”Her words came out on a breathless whisper.
Then she got that dizzy sensation again.That dangerous feeling.As if she’d drunk too much ale and her knees might collapse beneath her.
She gulped and tore her gaze away, vowing not to look at him again.Then she continued down the road.
As he walked beside her, he asked, “The real question is, how did ye recognizeme?”
Despite averting her gaze, visions of his features flashed through her mind’s eye.Where could she begin?Because he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen?Striking?Magnificent?Breathtaking?Because he had a smile that was charming and disarming?Because he had deep, penetrating, soul-searing eyes?
She wasn’t going to tell him that.She’d only get herself into trouble.
“Your features are…” What was a neutral word?“Distinctive.Unique.Memorable.”
“Memorable?”Adam echoed.
No one had ever told him he was memorable.Indeed, the reason he’d embarked upon a life of subterfuge was because he was sounmemorable.Now, for the first time in years, he felt… What word had she used?Seen.
“Oh aye,” she assured him.“Ye see, when ye’re like me—ordinary, pale, brown-haired, brown-eyed, plain o’ face—’tis far easier to slip through a crowd unseen and—”
He rounded on her, incredulous.“Plain o’ face?”
Surely she was jesting with him.Or maybe fishing for praise.
But when he looked into her lovely face—at her tempting lips, the delightful sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose, the tendrils of her lush hair curling upon her cheek, the dark, inviting pools of her eyes—he saw only sincerity.
“How can ye think ye’re plain o’ face?”he asked.
She lowered her gaze, obviously embarrassed.“Prithee, sir, do not mock me.”
“Mock ye?”
“I’m all too well aware o’ my flaws.”
He blinked.Flaws?As far as he could tell, she had none.
“So ye’re missin’ a toe, are ye?”he asked with a smirk.
“Nay.”
“Ye’ve got a tail?”
“A tail!”she exclaimed.
“Perhaps your knees are on backwards?”
He wasn’t prepared for the chiding punch she gave his shoulder.
Apparently, neither was she.Caught up in the moment, she’d reacted instinctively.And scared herself.
“Oh dear,” she said.“I apologize.”
He laughed.“I deserved that.”He rubbed his offended shoulder.“But the strength o’ that wallop proves yewerethat archer.”
She only shook her head.
