“But the sun is coming up.”
“Shhh,” her mother replied.
“Get dressed,” Patrik whispered to Cristina, his voice gruff. “We must leave.”
“No, wait.” She shuffled beneath his garb, then lifted a thin strip of leather from beneath a leg of his trews. “Here, I found it.” In the meager light, wariness creased her face. “I am not sure what is going on, but I am innocent of whatever it is you think I have done.”
He stared at the simple tie, grabbed his braies and dragged them on.
“Patrik? Please, you are scaring me.”
Bedamned to this entire situation! Annoyed with himself, he grabbed his trews. Her claim rang true. After the incredible love they’d made through the night, why had he assumed the worst? And why did he still feel as if something was amiss? Nevertheless, the lass deserved an apology.
He reached out, thankful when she came into his arms. Her body trembled against his, and his guilt rose. He pressed a kiss upon her brow.
“Sorry I am, lass. I am on edge.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “This day I will reach my destination.”
She drew back. “That should please you, not cause you upset.”
“If only it was that simple.”
“I do not understand.”
Neither could he explain. To tell her what she made him feel would only make the parting more difficult. “Once we arrive, I will ensure you are taken to wherever you wish.” He paused, his heart heavy. “I doubt we will see each other after.”
“I hear them talking again, Mommy.”
“Outside with you,” Marie whispered. “Pick me some fresh flowers.”
After a dramatic sigh, the creek of the door echoed. Except for the soft steps of Marie, silence fell below.
Patrik stroked his fingers through Cristina’s hair and gave her a tight smile. “If only we had such problems as the little lass.”
She nodded, her gaze cautious.
He fisted his tunic in his hands. “As much as I long to stay, it is time we depart.”
“You are not angry at me?” She hesitated. “I should have asked before I searched through your clothes.”
“Nay, there is much on my mind.” However much he wished to find peace, a niggling of doubt remained.
“I shall miss you,” she said.
The anguish in her voice matched his own. He drew her to him for a long kiss, savoring her softness, the taste uniquely hers. “I will miss you greatly as well.” More than he could ever admit. He nuzzled her neck, drew the tip of her breast into his mouth and tasted her one last time. On a groan he set her aside. “Get dressed, lass.”
Devilment glittered in her eyes as with seductive slowness, she lifted her gown, held it beneath her breasts, framing what he’d tasted, savored throughout the night.
He clenched his teeth. “Hurry, lass.”
If possible, her movements slowed, the mischief in her eyes assuring him she was well aware of her effect upon him. She drew on the gown and left the ties hanging loose, her body half shielded, half exposed to his view.
Bedamned! Hard as a rock and aching with need, he caught her and tossed her beneath him.
As he pressed his body atop hers, a chuckle escaped her. “What are you doing?”
“You tease,” he whispered.
“I tease you not,” she whispered.
