She clapped her hands together. “Wonderful.”
Their eyes met, and she felt it again. That strange current of awareness that started at her head and shimmered all the way down to her toes. It made her feel warm and syrupy and a little bit drowsy.
“Was there something else, my lady?” he asked politely.
“No, I …” She dropped her gaze, her cheeks heating, realizing she'd been staring. Thankfully, there wasn't a roomful of men to witness her embarrassment, as most of the others had started to drift away to finish tending to their mounts and then heading to the hall. She swallowed and started over, slower this time. “You seem anxious to leave.”
He'd taken a brush from the bag tied to his saddle and began to slide long, hard strokes over the shiny black coat of his stallion. It was impossible not to notice the impressive breadth of his shoulders and the powerful muscles of his arms as he worked. Very muscular arms. She doubted she could span one with both her hands.
Her mouth went a little dry, and she had to lick her lips to finish. “Is there a job waiting for you on the continent?”
His gaze leveled on her, and her belly fluttered. “Nothing in particular, but there is always a market for good sword arms. Why?”
She cleared her throat nervously. “I just wish there was some way I could thank you for all you've done.”
He brushed aside her gratitude. “I did no less than any man would have done in the circumstances.”
She shook her head. Never had she met a man so uncomfortable with praise. “At least let me pay you for your—”
His gaze went cold. “That will not be necessary.”
Lizzie's eyes widened as she realized she'd unintentionally offended him. He was a proud man, and her offer of recompense had impinged his honor—an odd reaction, she thought, for a man intent on selling his sword to the highest bidder.
She reached out and grabbed his arm. It was hard and unyielding under her fingers, with all the give of steel. “I'm sorry, I meant no offense.”
His eyes were black, as dark and impenetrable as his granite-hard body. He looked down at her hand.
She released it self-consciously.
He lifted his gaze to hers and then turned back to resume his task, finishing a few minutes later. “Is there someplace we can wash before the meal?”
“Of course. I can show you to where you will be staying.” She motioned to the bag tied to his saddle, which he'd removed and hung on the stable wall. “Bring your things if you like.”
He nodded and proceeded to remove the bag and sling it over his shoulders. A few of his men did the same and followed her out of the stables and into thebarmkin.She led them across the courtyard and into one of the many wooden outer buildings constructed beside the keep that housed the castle's guardsmen—though right now it was empty. It was one large room with a wooden floor and a fireplace burning at the far end. Simple accommodation, perhaps, but at least it was warm and dry.
“One of the serving maids will bring you water.” She looked over the tired, dirty men, seeing the scrapes and bruises on some of their faces. “I will also send the healer with some salve if any of your men have need of it.”
He seemed about to argue, but she stopped him with a look and folded her arms across her chest. His mouth curved, and instead he said with a nod, “Thank you.”
She turned to leave but stopped suddenly to look back at him. Something niggled at her. The hard lines etched around his mouth seemed a little deeper. Her gaze slid over his face. “Are you sure you are feeling all right?”
“Nothing a good night's sleep and a meal will not cure.” Deftly, he turned the conversation back to her. “What of you? You've been on your feet for hours, tending to everyone's needs but your own.”
“There is much to be done,” she said unthinkingly.
“Surely not all of it must be done by you? You must be exhausted, yet I have not seen you sit down. Is the lady of the keep not allowed to rest?”
He'd been watching her, she realized, and seemed genuinely concerned. No one had ever worried about her before. A warm glow settled somewhere in her middle. “It's been a difficult day,” she admitted. “So many lives lost. But it would have been much worse without you.”
Worse without you …Something she'd overheard one of her men say when she'd walked into the stable came back to her. The answer was so simple. Why had she not thought of it sooner?
She opened her mouth and then hesitated. What did she really know about him, other than that he'd rescued her … twice? “I …”
“Yes?”
She straightened her spine, knowing all she needed to know. “I have a proposition that might be to both of our benefit.”
“What kind of proposition?”
