Cormac woke with herin his arms.
His first thought was that he did not want to move.
He lay still.The lass was curled against his chest, her cheek pressed into the space below his collarbone.Her braid lay dark across his arm and over his chest, still carrying the faint trace of lavender.One of her hands rested against his shirt, her fingers curled slightly, completely relaxed.Her knee was drawn up across his thighs.He had both arms wrapped around her and no memory of putting them there.
Cormac looked down at her.
She was frowning.That small crease between her brows, even in sleep, even entirely still – as if she was working something out and refused to put it down even in dreams.He reached across and traced the line of it very gently with the tip of one finger.Then the curve of her brow.Then, before he fully decided to, the bow of her lips.
She did not stir.
He smiled.He was not a man who did that easily and he knew it.He smiled anyway, there in the dark, at this woman who had been trouble from the moment he pulled her out of that cart and who was presently using him as a mattress with complete contentment.
He breathed in the lavender scent of her hair and wondered what it would be like to wake up with her like this every morning for the rest of his life.
He frowned at the dark circles under her eyes.Thought about the way she had stood behind him in the forest with her fingers gripping his plaid.How she had accepted his instructions and followed without hesitation.He had to admit he found her very appealing.If only she were not the daughter of a thane, he might seriously consider keeping her.
Cormac shook his head slightly.He had no idea where all these thoughts were coming from.He had never met a woman who made him think about spending his future with her.It was a strange thing to ponder.
He had slept solidly.He could not remember the last time that had happened.
Then from outside, low and twice-repeated, came the bird call.
His jaw set.
It was time.
***
CORMAC MOVED SLOWLY, easing his arm from beneath Una by degrees.She stirred once and reached toward the warmth he had left before settling again.
Then he was up.
He crossed to the candle, lit it, and carried it to the window.He covered it with his hand twice, then three times.Paused.Once more.Then set it down.
Cormac went to the water pitcher and splashed his face.Dried his hands.Checked his knives – both at his belt, one in his boot.Rolled his shoulders.
Then he crossed to the pallet, crouched down, and put his hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Lass.'Tis time to wake up."
She did not wake.
"Lass."
Her eyes opened.She blinked twice, rubbed her eyes, then focused on his face and sat up.
He put his finger to his lips.
"What's happening?"she whispered.
"My men are here."He kept his voice low."Get dressed.Be quick and be quiet."
He turned his back.
Two minutes.That was all it took.He heard her moving, water pouring from the pitcher, the soft sounds of her dressing, the slide of her feet into her shoes, the quick work of her fingers in her hair.Then she said, "Ready."
He turned.She had plaited her hair and stood straight, waiting.No questions.No arguments.She held her tattered travel clothes in one arm.
