Page 27 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"Daes it?" His thumb traced a slow circle on her stomach. "Or are ye just afraid of what might happen if ye let me stay?"

"Nothing will happen."

"Are ye tellin' me? Or yerself?"

Elinor closed her eyes. Her heart was racing, her skin flushed. She could feel every point where his body touched hers—his chest against her back, his legs tangled with hers through the blankets, his hand warm on her stomach.

She should use the favor. Should make him move. Should protect herself.

But she thought about the days ahead. About facing the Duke of Albany. About building a life with this man she barely knew. And she thought that maybe, maybe, she needed to learn to trust him. At least a little.

"No," she whispered.

David's hand stilled. "Nay?"

"No. It's not one of my favors." She forced the words out. "You can stay in the bed. It doesn't affect me at all."

She turned then, deliberately pulling away from his touch. Rolling onto her other side so her back was to him again. Creating distance, even if it was only a few inches.

Behind her, David laughed. It was a low, knowing sound that made her face burn.

"Ye say it daesnae affect ye," he murmured. "But I think if we lit some candles, I'd find ye blushin' from head tae toe."

"Go to sleep."

"Bossy little thing, arenae ye?"

"David."

"Hmmm… I like the way ye call me name. Temptin’."

"David."

"Aye, aye. I'm goin' tae sleep."

She felt him settle back, felt the mattress adjust to his weight.

"Ye're already carin' fer yer husband's wellbeing. That's very sweet of ye, lass."

"I don't care about your wellbeing. I just want you to be quiet."

"Sure ye dinnae." His voice was warm with amusement. "Good lass."

Elinor bit her lip, refusing to respond. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how those words affected her.

Good lass.

As if she were something to be praised. Something to be gentled.

She told herself she wasn't blushing.

She told herself she definitely wasn't thinking about what might have happened if she'd said yes instead of no. If she'd let him keep touching her. If she'd turned in his arms instead of away.

Behind her, David's breathing evened out. He fell asleep quickly, the way soldiers did, taking rest when it was available because it might not be later.

Exhausted, she fell asleep right after.