He stared down into her eyes, and she was sure she could read some of his thoughts. Thoughts of them together…
“Wolf.”
He seemed to be the powerful one among his men. Maybe she was looking at this all wrong. If she was going to be here any longer, she was going to need someone powerful behind her. If she made him her lover, would that give her power, too? What about contraception? She suddenly felt lightheaded. This was real.
He caught her in his arms, seeming almost familiar with her form. But then, hadn’t he been the one to set her on the table when she’d fainted?
“What is it?” he asked behind her, against her ear.
“I…I must be more tired than I thought.”
“Hmm, not used to working is my guess.” He leaned down and, in one fluid motion, scooped her up in his arms to cradle her against his chest. “I could tell from a league away that you had no idea what you were doing.”
So, he’d been watching her.
“I told you I didn’t. Now, please, put me down.”
He shook his head. His braids fell against her hands as they locked at his nape.
“Put me down. What will your men think if they see you carrying a slave?”
“That I am a considerate master, and—”
“Master?” she asked with distaste.
“That is correct.”
“No. It’snotcorrect. Slaves are no longer a thing to want or need, okay? We’ve become a tad bit more civilized.”
“All right,” he said softly. “I stand corrected.”
The sound of his steady heartbeat in her ear resonated through her body. She felt weightless in his arms. And safe. His chest and belly were rock-hard, proving that he spent time in a gym. His shoulders were wide above her.
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes in his arms and promptly fell asleep.
*
She awoke thenext morning in a straw bed that didn’t smell fresh. She leaped out of it and made a soft squeak when she saw Wolf in the bed with her.
The lying bastard. Did he want to see angry? He would see angry now. She looked down at herself. Thank God, she was fully dressed. Had they done anything? She clutched her belly. Did they have plan B here? No. This was real. She didn’t have a purse anymore. Or a phone, or any identification.
Had they made love? Wouldn’t she remember doing it with him? She stared at him asleep in the bed, covered from low on his waist, down. His chest was bare and carved with hills and valleys, harder than granite. His belly was tight like a trampoline, ready to be jumped upon.
She tried to lift the thin woolen blanket to see if he was naked underneath.
“What are you doing?”
His voice startled her enough to make her jump away.
But why should she feel ashamed? “You lied to me! You told me you procured a bed for me!”
“I did not deceive you, Camelee,” he let her know from the bed, barely opening his eyes. He kicked off the blanket and before she could close her eyes, she saw that he wore short white breeches of sorts. But he was covered.
“When I arrived at the hut with you, the woman of the house advised me that thanks to my men, several of her neighbors were now widows and were staying with her. She could not give a bed to a stranger over a friend. I thought of commanding her to give up a bed, but I am not a cold-hearted beast. Not all the time, anyway. In the end, I had nowhere else to put you but in my own bed in this cottage.”
She listened, afraid to ask him if they had done anything. “Where can I use the restroom?”
“The what?”
