Her eyes widened to exaggerated proportions. “Compromise? I didn’t think you knew that word.”
He gave her a sharp look. “It’s not one I’ve used very often, but for you I’m prepared to make an exception.”
He was teasing her. She couldn’t believe it. “I’m duly honored,” she said with an exaggerated bow of her head.
He flashed her a roguish grin, and it felt as if the sun had broken through the clouds. It changed his whole face, making him look years younger. “How old are you?” she blurted.
A puzzled look creased his brow. “One and thirty.” Ignoring her strange question, he went back to what he’d been about to say. He cleared his throat. “If you can agree to accept when I cannot tell you something, then I shall endeavor to be more …”
He seemed to be having considerable difficulty finding the right word.
“Forthcoming,” she offered, trying to bite back a smile.
One side of his mouth curved in a wry grin. “Aye, forthcoming.”
She grinned. “I should like that.” It was enough. For now. But she still hoped that eventually he would make her more a part of his life. After her experience with organizing the books, she knew he could use her.
He smoothed her hair back from her face, studying her for so long with those implacably clear ice-blue eyes that a self-conscious flush rose to her cheeks. “I must look a fright,” she said, lowering her gaze.
His eyes darkened with heat. “You look beautiful.”
The simply spoken words startled her with their sincerity. Warmth spread through her. She’d heard the words before, but never had they mattered. “You’ve never said so.”
He looked surprised. “Haven’t I? I’ve thought it hundreds of times.”
“My mind-reading skills aren’t what they used to be.”
He laughed, and Christina thought it was the most wonderful sound in the world. This was exactly the kind of moment she’d dreamed of. She wished she could hold on to it forever.
His laughter died, and their eyes met.
The air sparked between them. The heat of a different kind of fever sent a flush spreading over her skin. It had been too long. Her body craved his on an elemental level—like water, food, and air, sheneededhim.
She was deeply conscious of him beside her on the bed, of his broad shoulders and powerful arms. Of his spicy, masculine scent. Of his gorgeous mouth.
He leaned down.
Her breath caught in anticipation.
But instead of kissing her, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “You need to rest,” he said.
“I feel fine,” she insisted, sounding not unlike a child deprived of a toy. Her very favorite toy.
But her effort to change his mind fell on deaf ears. He stood up. “I’ll be back to check on you later. If you need anything, just tell Morag.”
A bath. First thing. But sure that he would have other ideas about that, she decided not to mention it. “Morag was here? I thought she would be busy tending the wounded.”
“Among the men there were only a few bruises and scratches.”
She was relieved to hear it. A shadow of the ones who weren’t so fortunate passed over her.
He stood up and she watched him walk to the door. “Get some rest. I’ll send Mhairi to watch over you.”
“It isn’t necessary—”
But the door had already closed shut.
