“’Tis something I wish I did not know,” he grunted.
Kristen grinned. “That is the attitude that has kept my secret, until I needed to use it.”
“Who among them taught you, then?” he ventured. “Surely not your father?”
She shook her head. “Nay, most surely not him. My mother taught me.”
“Your—” He could not finish for the laughter.
Kristen smiled tolerantly. “Laugh all you like, milord, but ’tis true.”
“Oh, I have no doubt.” He chuckled still. “And what else would this warlike mother teach you?”
Now Kristen laughed. She pictured her beautiful, delicate mother in her mind. Warlike? God’s teeth! There was no one who looked less warlike.
“My mother might turn her nose at cooking and sewing, for she never acquired an enjoyment for such. But she is not warlike, milord. And she did teach me another valuable lesson. She taught me to feel no shame in wanting a man.”
Royce sobered instantly. She might as well have run her hands over his body. Those words had the same effect.
“And you feel no shame?”
“Nay.”
“And you want me, Kristen?”
“Nay.”
His grin matched her own. “Liar. You admitted it once before. Why will you not do so again?”
“I told you I would not and I will not.”
“You told me that in argument over your restrictions. You are no longer chained.”
“I beg to differ,” she replied quietly, her humor gone. “You have me chained by my word now, which is just as effective. You could have simply asked me to stay. Instead you had to bargain again.”
“God’s breath! Do not try to tell me you would stay simply because I ask it.”
“You will never know, will you, Royce?”
“Kristen—”
He had started to lean forward, but the arrow, entering his shoulder, threw him back against the tree trunk. And it had enough force to exit his back and embed in the trunk. He tried to pull away. When he could not, a vision of the Danes’ attack flashed through his mind, Rhona screaming for his help, and he unable to aid her because he was impaled to the wall.
His blood turned cold as he looked at Kristen jumping to her feet. “Take my horse and ride! Quickly!”
She straddled his hips instead as another arrow struck the tree above their heads. Swiftly she broke off the end of the arrow close to his skin.
“I will pull you loose, but you must help,” she told him urgently.
“Kristen, just go.” His voice was urgent. “Please. You must get away from here.”
“Push!”
She yanked so hard he did not have to help. He fell forward onto his knees. Blood began spreading on both sides of his tunic. She bit her lip, thinking she would have to get him to his feet now. He rose on his own. There was no weakening yet. And he was furious with her.
“If you do not get on that horse, woman, and ride for safety now—”
“Only if you ride with me,” she cut in, her tone more adamant than it had ever been.
