Dear God, he wanted to be that lip. Again, he found himself clearing his throat to knock some sense into himself, except the simple act did nothing to quell the heat in his blood. “I’ve done it many a night. Quite comfortable. Besides, it will help me keep an eye on everyone who rides through town. I’ll hear anyone approach. At the first sign of trouble, I would rather be there so they dinna make it inside.”
“Ah,” was all she said, her gaze sliding back to the bed. This time, at least, she nodded, and he hoped that meant her thoughts had turned to sleep. “Thank you for today, for everything. I had no idea how I would get away from my brother. I prayed daily for the ability to escape, and you gave me that.”
“Your cousin gave it to ye. I’d no’ be here were it no’ for Douglass’s request.” This was the truth, but he hated how it made it sound as if he hadn’t wanted to take on this quest. All the same, perhaps it was best to put some distance between them.
Rhiannon looked him right in the eyes then. There was no wavering in her voice when she said, “She might have asked, but you didn’t have to volunteer. You risked your life for me. And for that, I give you my thanks.”
The way she stared at him, the intensity of her gaze—he’d never met a woman filled with such confidence, and it reminded him again how much she, unlike any other woman, had the power to captivate him. “And ye saved mine today, too,” he said, referring to the outlaw in the wood. “We’re even.”
The corner of her mouth hitched into a slight smile. “I supposed we may be even for now, but I have a feeling, given what we’ve run into thus far, we’re bound to have a lot more trouble before we reach my cousin’s castle.”
He nodded. “That is likely true.”
“Do you think we’ll have trouble tonight?” She glanced toward the window, covered in a thick wool curtain to hide the outside from seeing in. Only the subtle wring of her hands showed that she might have been the slightest bit nervous, and he wished there were a way to comfort her, to assure her they wouldn’t.
But the truth was, she was right. Every second that ticked by made it much more possible for their enemies to find them. He’d rushed to get here after they were discovered, and aye, the army hunting them wouldn’t know the roads and villages as he did, but it was only a matter of time before they arrived here and banged on the tavern, stomped up the stairs and kicked in the chamber door. He hoped by the time that happened, the sun would have risen, and they’d be on their way, his coins in Gavin’s hands not only for his silence but for the damage the Sassenachs were likely to leave in their wake.
“I hope that we dinna, my lady. But I canna make any promises. The world is a wild and unpredictable place.”
“At least there’s hope, even if it isn’t guaranteed.”
“Aye.” He gave her a small smile. “I’ll no’ lie to ye, lass. But I will pray we are unbothered while here.”
“I appreciate that.” She reached for her boot, lifting the hem of her skirt as she did so, and Ian was momentarily without breath. Besides her boot, there wasn’t much to see, only a hint of her hose. But still…it had him imagining she would lift it higher to show off her soft and delicate knee. Instead, Rhiannon pulled out the dagger he’d given her. “Can I keep this? For tonight?”
“Of course,” he said, somewhat relieved because, for a second, he thought she might have been considering gutting him for his inappropriate thoughts.
Ian reached into his sleeve and pulled out another, walking toward her. “And maybe this one too.”
“One for each boot?”
“Actually.” He slipped the daggers from the brace at his wrist, undid the fastener, knowing he had a spare in his satchel. “Here.”
Ian held out his hand, silently asking her to put her hand in his. She did so, and he slowly peeled back her sleeve, revealing creamy, soft skin. Good God. He held his breath, afraid she would hear the sharp inhale and slap his hands away. Rhiannon sucked in a breath, the sound while subtle in reality was like thunder in his ears—the same inhale he’d tried to avoid. Gooseflesh rose on her skin where he touched her, and he worked hard to ignore the rush of blood winging through his veins in response.
He gently tightened the brace on her wrist so it wouldn’t slide. “Just keep it in like this.” He slid the dagger into place, the motion slow and sensual, which seemed at odds with the violence he hoped she’d wrought on any enemy who gave her cause to use it.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Ian glanced up at her. His hands were still on her wrist. Their eyes locked, and he found himself practically drowning in the depths of her sky-blue eyes. They were fringed with dark lashes, thick and curled. Mesmerizing. Honest.
He cleared his throat, trying to break the spell, but it didn’t work. Let go of her, he told himself, but his grip remained steady, and she made no move to pull away. He sensed her coming closer. She licked her lips. Her gaze boldly roved down to his own lips where she stared for half a beat before glancing back into his eyes.
Ian had been around enough women to know what that look meant. She wanted a kiss. And goddammit, he wanted to kiss her too. Wanted to press his mouth to hers and claim those subtle pink lips for at least thirty seconds and taste her. Plunge his tongue inside so he could say he knew what sweetness tasted like.
When was the last time he’d kissed a woman?
It had been years.
He wasn’t one to bed women often, finding it distracted him from the adventures he sought, but also because he did not want to be entrapped. He was not the kind of man who would bed a woman and leave her with a child to deal with it alone. And he’d figured that out at a young enough age, making sure he didn’t leave any bastards in his wake. The few women he’d slept with had been older—out of childbearing age. Or at least they’d told him that. And despite their claims, he still didn’t take their word for it. Used extra precautions and did not finish inside them.
Thankfully, his father had taught them as lads that doing so might prevent a bairn. One of the many good lessons he’d taught Ian and his brothers. That lesson had been embarrassing, to say the least, considering his da had asked all three brothers if they’d ever wanked themselves off. But knowing what came with release—the seed that spawned a life—had been necessary to keep themselves from fathering a dozen bastards. So, however embarrassing it had been, Ian was grateful for the crude lesson.
And thinking about that made him finally let go of Rhiannon’s hand. He cleared his throat again as he took a step back. God, if he kept this up, he might have cleared his throat right out of his neck.
“Well, lass. I do hope ye have a good night. I’ll most likely see ye in the morn. Pray no’ tonight.”
Rhiannon blushed, realizing he’d rejected her, which only made him wish to sweep her into his arms and ask her to forgive him. To kiss her properly. To make them both see stars.
