She nodded as she rubbed a hand over her face. “I slept so deeply,” she said, her voice filled with awe.
“That’s a good thing, yes?”
She turned to him. “I felt safe enough to really sleep.” She looked down at the coverlet. “I cannot remember the last time that happened. Not since my mother disappeared.”
He touched her face, drawing her gaze up to him. “I am pleased by that.”
She swallowed, and there was a message in her eyes. Hope, fear, or some mixture of emotions he couldn’t name. All he knew was that it touched his soul. Never had a woman looked at him that way. It wasn’t worship. She knew better than to think any man was a god. And yet there was an openness to her, a warmth that she hid from the rest of the world. That she would let him see that part of her stirred his heart.
And his loins.
“We have time,” he whispered as he stroked her neck. “If you want to linger in bed. If you’re not too sore.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as she let her head rest against his hand, but he could already tell this interlude wouldn’t last. Not because she was unwilling. Indeed, it appeared that he could seduce them both into a delightful morning.
But both their thoughts had engaged. He was already thinking about when his men would wake. They needed to make plans, and she needed to give him more information about what they faced in Scotland.
She caught his hand and pressed a kiss to it. “It appears that I am not the only one distracted this morning.”
He smiled at her. “You are the best distraction, but you are right. I think we should get going. We can take a slow pace to Scotland, but I do not want to linger here too long.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “I want to spread the tale of my fairy queen further north.”
“You know none of that is true.”
“Whatever do you mean?” He laced his tone with humor because it covered his anxiety. He’d chosen a risky gambit. Fairies and witchcraft were closely aligned in people’s minds, and not usually with kindness. He needed to instill fear, not terror. And he had no wish to bring back the witch hunts from a hundred years ago.
She cast him a wry look. “I’m not the child of a fairy king.”
“And how would you know that for sure?”
Her expression sobered as she pulled away from him. “It is a dangerous business to be called a witch—”
“You’re a fairy child. A queen!”
“That’s treason!” she exclaimed. “And by now, every soul for miles around will have heard the tale.”
“That’s my plan,” he said with a grin.
“And will the English king accuse me of raising an army?”
He snorted as he rolled out of bed. “Don’t be daft.”
She matched him, standing tall and proud despite her nakedness, and by God, she looked glorious. “They dropped to one knee before me. They swore fealty!”
He shrugged. “They were drunk. Besides, we’re not heading to London. We’re going north to Scotland. And the king cares bugger all for a bunch of drunken revelers heading out of England.”
“But—”
He came around the bed to face her. Damn, his cock was getting hard just looking at her. But he could see she was genuinely worried, and besides, she deserved to know his plan. She was the primary component in it.
“Do you know, I heard the tale of your sixteenth birthday while I was searching for your necklace.”
“What?”
“Without ever going to Scotland, I had heard of you, granddaughter to Scotland’s most famous witch.”
“Infamous. She was killed—”
“But she wasn’t killed, you see.”
