“What I have is a king’s vow of protection, and a knight who almost lost his life trying to keep me safe. Both for which I am thankful. But a life of my choosing?” She released a slow breath. “With my father’s offer of gold for my capture, and those who care naught but for the coin my seizure would bring them, never will I have the luxury of deciding how to live.” She frowned. “As if during times of war anyone has such an option?”
Thomas cursed his draw to understand this complex woman. Whatever existed between them was moot. He should abandon this topic, return to their game, and focus on the lightness of moments before. And he would have, except he’d caught the soft yearning in her voice. “If you had a choice, what would you wish for?”
“I believe,” she said, her fingers tightening on the pawn, “we are playing for secrets, nae wishes.”
Driven by some inner demon, Thomas laid his hand atop hers, the smoothness of her skin in sharp contrast to his battle worn hands, ones that’d taken lives while hers had saved them.
Need rolling through him, he inhaled a slow, calming breath. Nay, ’twas naught safe about allowing his thoughts to linger on her, or to notice how her fingers lay intimately against his skin.
He should move away and end this madness. Instead, he skimmed his thumb along the silky hollow of her palm, and her hand trembled beneath his touch.
Her eyes flared, and his mouth went dry. Pulse racing he stilled, the innocent question of moments before having taken a direction he hadna intended. Except he needed to know. “But if you could have a life of your choosing?”
“’Tis dangerous to change the rules once the game has begun,” she whispered. “Such a decision can open doors that you dinna intend to.”
He glanced at the lush firmness of her mouth, and a burst of heat shot through him. Swallowing hard, he lifted his eyes to hers. “And staying within the guidelines is safe?”
On a soft inhale, her lips parted.
His mind a spiraling haze of urgency, Thomas released her, irritated at how she pulled her hand close to her body. How had he tumbled into such a convoluted mess? Blast it, his father should have left him at the monastery. Nor could he change the way of things now. However drawn to Alesone, ’twas foolhardy to allow a woman into a life as broken as his. She deserved a man who wouldna fail her.
While he…deserved no life at all.
With a forced smile he sat back. “So we will continue the game.” Determined to keep his emotions under tight control, he withdrew his bishop to a safer location along with the whims of his pride.
She countered his move.
With a soft scrape, he placed his bishop on said square. Arching his brow, Thomas lifted her captured rook. “’Twould seem,” he teased, “you owe me a secret.”
“It seems I do.” Humor shimmered in her eyes, and he drown within their hypnotic dance. “If I tell you, you canna laugh.”
Her mesmerizing gaze lowered, and he chuckled, charmed by her unexpected shyness. Thomas made an exaggerated sign of a cross over his heart, the action more a reminder to him to keep his distance.
“You didna swear,” she said.
He gave a mock frown and leaned closer. “I didna realize,” he said, his burr deepening along with his desire for this fascinating woman. “that the secret was of such great consequence.”
Her mouth trembled with laughter, the enjoyable sound pulling his gaze to her lips.
Full.
Lush.
God help him.
“Swear it,” she said, “or I will be sleepless at night wondering if you will ever tell another soul.”
“Now”—he held up her rook—“I am intrigued.”
Devilment danced in her eyes as she reached for her rook.
Their fingers touched.
The burst of energy shot straight to his groin.
Her eyes widened, the flecks of silver within captivating. Her soft gasp drew his gaze back to her lips.
Unbidden, his thoughts tangled, clouding the reasons why he shouldna kiss her.
