Page 34 of An Outlaw’s Desire

His eyes narrowed. “Trust you?”

“With the truth. The reason why you are here.”

He kissed her cheek then pressed his brow to hers. “I wish I could tell you.”

“You can.”

“’Tis dangerous.”

Dangerous? “For whom?”

“I could lose….”

He shook his head and stepped back, breaking contact. Such torment lined his features.

“Lose what?” She twisted her bound hands in frustration. “Tell me. Mayhap I can help you.”

A harsh laugh broke from him. “No one can help me.”

“You do not know that.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

The young man she’d known had trained hard, wanted to be among the best of Lord Montgomery’s squires, and had planned for knighthood and a life dedicated to the crown. What had happened, to turn him into the man who stood before her now? Despite his recent boldness, she sensed soul-deep weariness in him, and his badly worn boots and garments proved the years since they’d last seen each other had been difficult for him.

“If you tell me the truth of what is going on, I will not shout for help.”

Warning touched his gaze. “I can stop you from screaming.”

“By kissing me again?” The thought shouldn’t make her skin prickle with excitement.

“Not by kissing you.”

A note in his voice told her she wouldn’t like him taking such action.

Would he tie wadded cloth in her mouth? Knock her about the head and render her senseless?

“I would rather not,” he added. “I would prefer to share what’s happened in our lives since we parted ways. If, of course, you wish the same?”

Aye. ’Twas a much more pleasant option. She might even manage to glean hints as to why he’d turned up in her chamber.

She nodded. “I agree.”

Pitt couldn’t deny his admiration. By now, most ladies in Blythe’s situation would have had tears in their eyes. They might even have fainted. While she was most certainly leery of him, her expression also revealed interest and stubborn resolve.

A wry chuckle tickled his throat. Blythe had always been clever, and he sensed she had a goal in mind for their discussion. He’d better be careful what he said to her.

“So.”

Hold on. He was the one in charge of the conversation. “Blythe—”

“Do not use that arrogant tone with me.”

A startled laugh burst from him.

“You and I are friends.” Her voice softened. “Once, we were much more than that.”

He hardened his heart to the tangled emotions vying to be acknowledged. Standing so close to her was becoming torture. He yearned to kiss her again. Longed to run his hands down the silken length of her hair then glide his fingers inward, over her breasts. He wanted to hear her breath hitch as the linen of her chemise brushed against her nipples. She’d never held back, never hidden her pleasure from him, and just thinking of the little sounds she’d voiced years ago made him hunger to hear them all over again.