"The responsibility is mine alone. They were following my orders." Cyrus observed her with dark, troubled eyes. "I now know I shouldn't have sent Irving and MacNeil after Fraser because Dalacroy's men followed them. But I thought 'twas the best thing to do at the time, to safeguard Fraser. I don't always make perfect decisions but do my best to protect all involved. As for my guards, they have always known of the risk to their lives."
She nodded but was still unsatisfied. "Regardless, I must find a way to repay you."
"Nonsense," he grumbled. "I would never expect payment for this."
"But you deserve it."
His gaze connected intimately with hers for a long moment. "Seeing you safe is enough reimbursement for me. As well as bringing down a vile adder like Dalacroy."
But why did he concern himself with her wellbeing? It couldn't be because they'd shared a passionate tryst, for he'd protected her even before then.
"I cannot…" She paused, uncertain how to phrase her thoughts as she searched his striking and compelling features.
"What?"
"I cannot quite grasp your generosity. I have never known anyone so giving, expecting naught in return."
His dark eyes intensified upon her. "You've been treated poorly by men in the past."
She nodded, feeling a pang of sadness that he was right.
"'Twill not happen again as long as I draw breath."
She could not believe his heartfelt words, said in that deep and roughened tone. 'Twas almost like a sworn oath… that he would protect her for the rest of his life. Oh, if only such a thing could be possible. Tears flooded her eyes. She faced away from him, trying to hide the flash of emotion.
"Elspeth?" He touched her shoulder.
Hardly able to withstand the acute and tender emotions, she turned and buried her face against his chest. She sighed as his warm, strong arms surrounded her in complete comfort and security. She slipped her arms around him as well, thanking God for this man.
"Why are you crying?" His voice rumbled against her ear.
"Gratitude," she whispered.
"Shh." He kissed the top of her head. "You need not shed any tears over it."
She drew back a few inches. "I know not why you have a reputation as a warlord when you are the kindest man I have ever known."
"I'm not kind to my enemies."
"Well… I'm glad I'm not your enemy."
"You could never be." He leaned closer, his midnight eyes searching hers in the dimness.
The thunder overhead took her back to that other stormy night when they'd shared a spontaneous and tempestuous passion. Now, as then, the yearning took control. She let him capture her lips in an action as wild as the wind whipping against the building and the rain pouring down outside. She had never felt anything as magical and irresistible as his mouth upon hers. Her arms encircled his neck, drawing him down to her.
He lifted her, turned and knocked an object to the stone floor. Before she knew it, she was sitting on a table, his mouth consuming hers ever more fiercely. 'Twas a kiss that gave and demanded in equal measure. A kiss that touched her soul.
She clutched her fingers into his midnight hair, pulling him closer, wishing she could draw him inside her. His short rough beard rasped her chin in a pleasure-pain abrasion. Desire burned in her core, as he stood between her spread knees.
He tore himself away, forcing her to release him, and turned aside. "Damnation. I have to stop."
"Why?" The word popped out, though she hadn't wanted to utter it, to reveal her true feelings. Surely, he thought her a wanton, but she couldn't help yearning for the kiss to go on forever. She had never suspected a kiss could be life-altering.
He remained silent for a long moment as if searching for a reason. "You must be hungry."
Food was the farthest thing from her mind. 'Twas something else entirely that she hungered for, but she'd best follow reason and try not to involve herself with him again. Though difficult, she attempted to ignore the heated way her body had responded to the closeness of his.
Stepping back, he glanced around. "I wonder if there's anything down here for you to eat."
