Erik had the distinct feeling it was intentionally done to leave him alone with Ellie. But Ellie seemed unusually anxious. She took an inordinate amount of time removing her cloak, and then bustled around the room until she finally decided to warm her hands before the fire.
“Was there something you wanted, lass?”
“Nay,” she said quickly, then amended, “Yes.” She folded her hands in her skirts and turned to face him. “Your guests. Is that why you didn’t come tonight?”
Damn. He’d forgotten. Perhaps that wasn’t quite true. Randolph’s words were weighing on him more than he wanted to acknowledge. “Aye, I’m sorry,” he smiled, “but business before pleasure.”
His attempt at lightheartedness, however, was utterly undone by her next words. “You aren’t a pirate, you’re with Bruce. That’s why the English are after you.”
He laughed as if she’d just made a joke, though inside he was furious. She must have recognized Edward Bruce. “Still inventing noble activities for me, Ellie? I thought you were going to leave the tale-telling to me.”
“Don’t,” she said softly. “Don’t joke about something like this.” Her eyes fixed on his. “Don’t lie to me.”
He should. He should turn his back and walk away. It was already too complicated. But he couldn’t force his feet to move. He didn’t want to lie to her. “It’s safer for you if you don’t ask questions.”
“I don’t care about being safe. I want to know the truth. Why else would the king’s brother be here?”
“Damn it, Ellie,Icare!” He dragged his fingers through his shorn hair, trying to get a rein on his frazzled emotions. Couldn’t she see that he was trying to protect her? “Do you know what they would do to you if they thought you knew anything? King Edward will stop at nothing to find Bruce. Do not let the fact that you are a woman make you think that you are safe.”
The vehemence of his reaction didn’t seem to have any effect on her. “The queen.” She stepped forward anxiously. “What news do you have of Queen Elizabeth?”
He frowned at the strange intensity of her question, until he recalled her position in Ulster’s household. “None since she parted from the king a few months ago.”
“I’ve heard rumors that she’s gone to Norway. To take refuge with Bruce’s sister, the queen.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
He could see her disappointment and wondered if despite her position in Ulster’s household she was sympathetic to Bruce. With Bruce’s connections to Ireland, he would not be surprised. But it didn’t matter. Sympathetic or not, Erik had a price on his head and any connection with him was too dangerous.
“Why were you in the cave below Dunluce?” she asked.
“Ellie …” he warned.
But she wasn’t listening. “Those men you were meeting with. The Irishmen. They are warriors for Bruce.” She looked up at him. “You’re planning something.”
He crossed the room in two strides and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Stop,” he said, fear twisting inside him. Why did she have to be so damn smart? “No more questions. Forget about everything you have heard. Forget about me.”
He was shouting—actually shouting.
She gasped, his anger finally seemed to have penetrated. “Is that what you want me to do?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
She lifted her chin and locked her gaze on his. He felt the connection fire between them. She met his gaze, challenging him to deny it. “I can’t do that.”
Damn her. She was the most infuriating, contrary woman he’d ever known. Erik felt as though everything was spinning out of control. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she listened to him. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her as far away as possible. Somewhere safe.
But safe meant away from him.
He stepped away. She would forget about him, just the way he would forget about her. A dull ache throbbed in his chest. “Get some rest. We leave late tomorrow night.”
Her face fell. “But …” Her voice dropped off as if she’d wanted to protest but realized the futility. She looked up at him again. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
Normally he wouldn’t have hesitated. When faced with a choice between a passionate liaison and sitting around with his men waiting for night to fall, it wasn’t much of a contest. Even now, standing here, he was fighting to control himself. Her soft, feminine scent rose up to taunt him. His desire for her was not running its course but growing more fierce. He wanted to strip her down naked, wrap her against him, and slide deep inside her. He wanted it so badly, he could picture it—constantly—and the images were driving him mad.
He knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was getting too complicated. His control was taxed to the limit. Tomorrow they would go their separate ways. A clean break would be better. But he was finding it hard to resist the temptation of spending one last day with her. Of touching her. Of watching her face flush with pleasure as he stroked her to mindless oblivion.
“I don’t know,” he hedged. “There will be much to do.” Like sit around and wait.
