“He may try,” he replied, a fiery light of defiance flickering in his eyes.
She didn’t have to explain to him who she meant. He knew. And for that she was grateful.
“But what if he—”
“I will protect ye.” He unfolded his tall frame from the chair and moved toward her. “I swear that to ye. I will protect ye with my sword or my own body if necessary.”
He said it with such conviction, heat swarmed over her. Though, she decided, it was because he stood so close to her and the fire blazed hot in the hearth. In fact, a cold sweat broke out along her spine as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
He was tall, she realized. She hadn’t noticed how tall. And he was broad. Muscular, with large biceps and a wide chest she had been cradled against more than once. A wayward lock of hair fell over his shoulder. She didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but she reached up and pushed it away.
He stilled. The only sound in the room was that of her shallow breathing and the crackling fire.
And the drumming of her heart. Could he hear that, too?
“You would protect me like that?”
“Aye.”
“Why?”
“Ye ken why.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Because ye are under my brother’s roof. Ye are part of the family.”
“Is that the only reason?”
What was she doing? Why was she asking him this? Of course, it was the only reason. Perhaps the power of the stone had gone to her head and she was—what did he call it?—wrecked. There was no other explanation.
He tipped his head to one side as he peered at her with a look that made her heart ache. “Nay.”
He said it so softly, she wasn’t sure she heard him.
“No?”
The world seemed to tip on its axis as he brought his hand up and brushed the back of it over her cheek. Then he slipped his hand along the side of her neck.
“Nay,” he repeated.
He leaned down, the movement swift enough to dull her senses. Before she processed what was happening, his lips met hers. It stole her breath in the most delightful way imaginable. The coarse hairs of his beard bristled against her skin, a surprising contrast to the softness of his gentle yet demanding mouth. The world fell away and all that mattered was yielding to him in that moment. And in that moment, the flutter of emotion unfurled deep in her chest.
She focused on how his large hand fit against the side of her neck, the way his coarse palm brushed against her skin. Her traitorous mind wondered then how his hands would feel on other parts of her body. How her skin would feel against his. But she shoved those thoughts away. Now was not the time for that. Now would never be the time. He wasn’t the one for her.
Was he?
He stepped back to look down at her. A sensuous light flickered through those sea-green eyes. Eyes like summer lightning on a humid spring day before the thunderstorms came.
Oh, God. Helikedher, didn’t he?
But did she like him? Enough to want to kiss him again? She needed to test that theory.
Without thinking and before second-guessing herself, she stood on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. The boldness of her actions surprised both of them. A rush of heat pounded through her, making her heart thud in loud, untamed beats. For a moment, he froze, taken aback by her audacity. Then his hesitation melted away. His arms slid around her, strong and sure and steady, as he pulled her close into his embrace.
Oh, yes. She liked him enough to do this—more than enough. And the way he held her told her he might feel the same.
The thought of their mutual kissing enjoyment knocked her off kilter. She didn’t need to get caught up in a romance with him. They were from two different worlds. He was a medieval man. She was a modern woman. Eventually, she and Evie would return to their own time.
