“I swore to my king that I would see to your safety. A vow I intend to keep.”
And what if she wanted their relationship to be more? After the nights they’d slept together aboard theAodhout of sheer survival, after the way he’d comforted her, and the moments when they’d become close, more so than either had planned, why was she caught off-balanceby the thought?
Nor should she be surprised to be wanting more after their passionate kiss earlier, one that’d ended all too soon. Though she’d been curious of what his kiss would be like, never had she expected it to sear her every inch, to leave her shaken and wanting more.
Look at her, musing like a woman with naught but thoughts to keep her company when her father’s life, as their king, depended on them. She cleared her throat. “With your body healing, I think ’tis best if youtake the bed.”
“’Tisna a decision that is up for debate.” His eyes warning her that he wouldna tolerate further discussion, he began spreading a blanket on the floor.
Nor did she miss the humor of the situation. His stubbornnessmatched hers.
Tiredness swept Lathir. Stifling a yawn, she crossed to the bed she’d slept in the night before. The soft pop of the fire filled the silence as she slipped beneath the covers and closed her eyes.
The haze of sleep sifted over her, a soft calm that seemed to absorb her every thought, to steal the tension sliding through her.
The whisper of prayers filtered through the haze.
Through her lashes,she peered out.
A pace away, on his knees, Rónán was whispering the Our Father. As on the ship, once he completed the prayer, he started again. After several Paternosters, he made the sign of the cross, then turned.
Surprise flickered in his gaze when he found her watching him; then his expression grew guarded. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I heard you praying.” She shifted to her side and pillowed her head on her hands. “When you pray, why do you repeat the Lord’s Prayerseveral times?”
With a grimace, he glanced toward the door. “Tighearnán will beback any time.”
“Which,” she pointed out, “doesna answer my question.”
He lifted his blanket, settled on the floor near her, then tugged the cover atop him. “I ama devout man.”
“Which explains why you pray often, but not the reason why you took a spiritual path.”
Silence.
“Did you want tobecome a monk?”
He turned his back to her.
An ache built in her heart as she surmised the reason was tied to his past. She shifted closer to the edge. “After your tragic childhood, it makes sense you found yourself wanting to join a monastery. You disclosed so much while we were stranded on theAodh. Is it too muchto share this?”
The blanket rustled as Rónán gave an irritated sigh and pulled it higher.
Though her life had been dramatically different, needing him to comprehend that to a degree she understood, her thoughts drifted back to her youth. “When my father was at battle, or on a journey that would take him away for months, I found solace in the chapel at Wynshire Castle.”
Silence.
“At times our priest would find me alone, praying in the pews,” she continued as she lay back on the bed, far from dissuaded, “with but a single candle lit in the middleof the night.”
Rónán shifted noisily.
Sensing he was looking at her, Lathir didn’t turn his way.
“Why were you in the church at such a late hour?”
Memories of wisps of frankincense and myrrh sifted through her mind, of sitting on the wooden pews, embraced by the waver of candlelight, the solitude, and Him.
“I found a sense of peace there. Within the cast of the single flame spilling upon the cross before me, however afraid, however alone, He was near me.” A smile touched her face. “Whenever the priest would find me there, instead of chastening me to return to bed, he would sit beside me and listen to my worries, or share passages from the Bible. But…” Emotion swept her, and she stilled.
