Hanna blinked in confusion, staring in mute surprise, and then from the cottage behind came the unmistakable wail of a baby.
Her cheeks heated, and her breasts tingled as her body automatically responded to the urge to nourish her child.
Hanna gasped, grasping for the edges of her cloak and pulling it around her in mortification as the front of her dress darkened with the rush of her milk coming in.
Alaric's expression was hidden in shadow, but his body went tense, gloved fists clenching slowly at his side. Then, he turned and walked back into the trees, leaving her there more confused than ever before.
James cried out again, loud and demanding, and Hanna snapped out of her stupor, hurrying towards the cottage and rushing inside.
ALARIC
Alaric had known he was walking a fine line between right and wrong, following the Hanna as she walked the road or the forest paths. It had been two months since he had first spied her on the road towards the edge of the village, recognising her instantly as the girl from the woods.
The one who had haunted his dreams, his first waking thoughts, the one he had left behind to pursue the fruitless chase after his sister.
His obsession with her had become compulsive, his need to be in her proximity forcing him to make himself more visible in her world
At first, it had been honest curiosity, then some concern, as Alaric had noticed her vulnerability alone, often returning late in the day. He had felt compelled to keep his eye on her, to make sure she came to no harm. As if he could somehow turn back time and stand between her and the ones who had hurt her before.
But now, it was more than that, as he had begrudgingly acknowledged to himself as he gave in to his desire and became her shadow, always watching, always there.
After some discreet investigation, he had discovered she was the daughter of the leathersmith, a hard-faced man who Alaric begrudgingly dealt with due to the quality of his work.
Sometimes he caught a glimpse of her outside the workshop, her gaze always demurely turned to the ground as she hurried off. More and more he found a reason to visit the leathersmith, just to see her, to hope she would look up at him as she walked by.
Alaric had developed his suspicions about the reason for her daily visits to the old widow who lived outside of town.
He knew he could just ask around in the village, he had seen the way some folks looked at her, but the thought of encouraging gossip about her felt distasteful. As if it would taint him with their judgment of her.
As it was, he had heard the name of his sister on the lips of those around him who thought they were being discreet.
No, he would not stoop to that level. Alaric knew the answers he sought would reveal themselves in their own time.
At first, he had assumed it was an act of charity; there was obviously friendship between the women.
But then, he heard the babe.
Seeing her response to the child’s cry had confirmed it in his mind.The girl was the mother.
That day after he followed her through the woods, Alaric had seen the irrefutable evidence of motherhood dampening the front of her gown, blooming across the fabric like lust and innocence poured over his skin, and something dark and hot had twisted his gut. Something like …. possession.
His need to protect had switched like a knife in his hand to the need tohave.
Shite.It was almost appalling how his eyes had fixated on the dark stain that spread against the grey calico of her simple dress.The thought of her breasts bound tight inside the garment, full and ripe.
It was not a thought a decent man should have.
But then, he would never be considered a gentleman. Never seen as anything more than a workhorse, a deadly shot, a weapon to be pointed at a target.
That was his very nature.
See the precious thing in the rough of the woods, care for it, nurture it. Then claim it, in life or in death.Nonetheless, he would have it.
Alaric stood just inside the shelter of the trees, watching the girl spin on her heels and hurry towards the cottage. He needed to stop fooling himself about his fixation on her.
She was clearly in need of assistance, of protection. And he was in need of… many things. Some more than others.
The thought of those ethereal eyes looking up into his as he crushed her to his chest and took her mouth stole the last shred of Alaric’s resistance to what he realised had been inevitable since the moment he first laid eyes on the woman.
