She wanted to, desperately. Emma wrung her hands and studied the flicker of flames.
“Look at me.”
Emma lifted her eyes. The sincerity of his gaze stole her breath. If she told him of the rape during her youth, it would explain her hesitance, yet raise questions about her husband’s touch. But she needed him to understand.
And offer yet another lie?
No, in this she would give him truth. “After my husband was murdered—” She struggled for the right words. “—one of the English knights caught me and I was raped.”
Fury burned his eyes.
“The man . . .” She stared at the distant rush of water, the years rolling past, seeing the merchant’s greedy hands, feeling the pain of his assault. “I tried to run, to escape. I could not get away.” A sob escaped, then another. Emotions she’d withheld, had never shared with another, broke free. Hands, strong and tender, caught her, drew her against him, held her as if she was something precious.
“God, lass,” he whispered, “I am so sorry.”
Her tears fell harder, in part at the memories, in part that even in her horror she invited deception. She shook her head. “I no longer cry.”
Patrik wiped her cheek. “Tears do not make you weak, but alive.”
“It hurts to feel.” She sniffed. “I swore never again to care.”
“’Tis an unreasonable vow,” he said, his words without censure. “Our feelings are not for us to dictate.”
She fought to give him a smile, failed. “I was doing well until I met you.”
His mouth opened as if to say more. Instead, he drew her close, the steady beat of his heart reassuring, making her want to stay there forever.
“You need to rest.” His quiet words held an edge of tension, and of need as well.
Emma looked up. “But I want you.”
Instead of heat, tenderness filled his gaze. “As I do you, never doubt that. But with your emotions so raw, you are not ready.”
“I—”
He pressed a finger over her mouth. “On this I will not budge.”
At his thoughtfulness, fresh tears threatened. Though he might never admit it, they both understood that after the events of this moment, the bond between them had changed, had deepened.
“Come.” He led her to where he’d made a pallet. “We are both tired and need sleep.”
She nodded, emotions storming her as she walked by his side. They halted before the fire, but she found herself unable to let him go.
“Patrik?”
“Aye?”
“Will you hold me?”
Tenderness creased his face. “ ’Twould be a fine thing.”
Shyness touched her, ridiculous to feel after asking him to make love to her, more so after their heated kiss when he’d touched her, made her body come alive.
He helped her settle, then wrapped his hand around her waist and drew her against him. Warmth surrounded her, a contentment she’d never expected to feel.
Emma snuggled against him. “Thank you.”
He kissed her brow. “Go to sleep.”
