“Having known servants as family,” she said softly, “I’d say kindness earns loyalty. The kind that goes beyond duty. And a willingness to go an additional mile in your service.”
Aaron nodded, thoughtfully. One hand rested on the small of Catherine’s back, and she relished the possessiveness of that touch. She settled herself deeper into his embrace.
“I shall make a note to try that,” he murmured, “and does the same work for wives?”
Catherine giggled. “It isn’t my wisdom to say. I have never had a wife.”
He laughed, and it was the same sound she remembered from childhood. Free and gay. Unburdened.
Where has all the weight come from that seems to weigh you down? Dare I ask?
“But I imagine it would. Treat me with kindness, and I will endeavour to be... indispensable to you.”
“You already are.”
Catherine blushed, gazing into Aaron’s eyes and savoring the romantic flavor of the comment. Then he gestured at the steep slope.
“Without you, I would be stuck down here, for example,” he offered matter-of-factly.
She snorted softly. Despite everything—the collapsed bridge, the ruined day, the fact that she'd run from him only minutes ago—she felt easier now than she had in weeks. Safe in his arms. As though she finally understood him.
We are both victims of cruel families. Both damaged. I learned to be submissive and meek. Aaron learned to be hard and unbending.
“I think we are examples of extremes,” he murmured, as though reading her mind. “There should be a middle-ground.”
He was looking out into the darkening trees. Catherine nestled her cheek against his shoulder. She studied the line of his jaw, the way his throat worked when he swallowed.God, but he was beautiful. Had any man ever been so handsome?
“And what would that be for you?” she asked upon realizing she had been silent for too long.
He turned his head. His nose brushed hers, lips a whisper away. Catherine’s breath hitched. One tilt of her chin and she could taste him. One shift, and—
“Kinder,” he said roughly. “No. More trusting. I know that I don’t trust. Not anyone. Not ever.” His jaw flexed. “Can’t live my whole life behind castle walls.”
“You can,” she whispered, “provided you are not alone in them.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “And you?”
“I need to build walls. Be more resilient. More... assertive.”
Aaron’s hand slid up her back, beneath the fall of her hair, fingers curling around the nape of her neck. The touch sent liquid heat down her spine, melting muscles she hadn’t realized were tight.
“Then perhaps,” his thumb traced the sensitive skin behind her ear, “we help each other.”
“Yes.” The word came out breathless.
“We should begin at once.” His voice had dropped, gone dark and velvet.
Catherine felt the change in him—the hardness beneath her, the way his fingers tightened slightly at her nape. Her own body answered with a rush of heat low in her belly.
“How?” she asked, simply.
“Be assertive.” His gaze locked with hers, pupils blown wide. “I can barely move. I’m at your mercy.” His free hand settled on her hip, thumb stroking through the fabric of her dress. “Take what you want from me.”
Her breath left her in a rush.
Her fingers threaded into his hair, tilting his face up to hers. She was perched in his lap, straddling him, positioned above him in a way that felt scandalous and thrilling. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her palms.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Women didn't take. Didn't demand. Didn't claim…
