I stared at the tub, at the curling steam, and at the promise of relief I wanted far more than I cared to admit.
“And where am I to go whilst yer naked in it?” I asked, bitterness slipping through despite my best efforts.
He smiled softly, too softly. It made something in my belly flutter despite my pain. “It’s for ye, lass. I’ll sit with my back turned until ye’re abed.”
That stunned me more than any teasing remark ever could.
“Thank ye,” I said, the words quieter now, real, even as dread coiled low in my belly at the thought of taking off my boots without betraying myself.
“I’m nae the ogre ye think,” he said, settling onto the bed with his back to me, granting me the privacy I had not trusted him to offer.
I watched him a moment longer than I should have, staring at the breadth of his shoulders and the dark fall of his hair catching the low firelight. Something tight and unfamiliar tugged deep in my chest.
What would this night have been like if my life were different?
The thought came unbidden, unwelcome, and treacherous. I cut it off before it could take root, turned away, and made my way to the bed, lowering myself carefully as I reached for my boots. The moment I bent, pain lanced through me, sharp and unforgiving, stealing my breath.
I froze and tried again, but the pain was worse this time. Each movement sent another hot, throbbing, impossible-to-ignore wave through me. My breath hitched. My hands trembled. Sweat gathered at my brow, sliding slowly down my temple as frustration and pain tangled tight inside me. I could not do this. Not alone.
The realization hit harder than the pain itself. And that, more than anything, broke me.
Tears spilled free before I could stop them, hot and helpless, slipping silently down my cheeks as I fought for control I no longer had.
Chapter Eight – James
I had told her I would keep my back turned. I had meant it, too, but then she broke down. It wasn’t a shriek or a dramatic wail meant to summon pity. It was a small, strangled sound that slipped from her as if she had fought it with all her stubborn pride and lost. The sound cut through me like a blade.
I turned to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, bent awkwardly toward one boot, her shoulders trembling and her hands clenched around the worn leather as if she could force it off her foot by sheer will. Her hair had fallen forward, hiding most of her face, but I could see the sheen of tears on her cheeks. For a breath, I did not move.
I’d seen men weep after battle. I’d seen warriors grip their own spilling guts and beg for their mamas. I’d watched fear turn strong men weak, but I’d never been affected by anyone’s pain as I was by Katreine’s. I felt gutted.
“Katreine,” I said quietly.
She went still at once, as if my saying her name had struck her. “Do nae look at me,” she ordered, but her voice cracked on the command.
I crossed the room despite the feeling that I was crossing a divide I might not be able to return from.
“I said do nae look at me,” she snapped, wiping angrily at her face, only making the tears come faster. “Turn around.”
“Nay.”
Her head jerked up, fury flashing through the tears in her eyes. “Ye said ye would.”
“Aye,” I replied, dropping to one knee before her. “And then ye started crying.”
“I’m nae crying.”
I looked at the tears slipping down her cheeks, and she glared at me as if daring me to contradict her. A smile might have come to me had the sight of her not carved something raw out of my chest. “Then yer eyes are leaking something fierce.”
Her mouth trembled, and she looked away quickly, as if she feared what I might see if she held my gaze too long. “Leave me be.”
“I can nae do that.”
“James.”
The way she said my name was meant to warn me off. Instead, it rooted me to the spot. I reached for her boot, and she jerked her foot back so sharply that she went pale and drew a sharp breath. It was clear she was in great pain and stubbornly trying to hide it. The lass had backbone, that was for certain. “Enough,” I said. “Let me help ye.”
“I do nae need help.”
