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She’d try . . .
Sabine thought of the river that ran behind their manor. Her mother had always had a terror of water, and so the river had become a special place for Sabine and her father. They’d plunk rocks into the water, one after another, while Mother waved to them from atop the hill.
“Open your eyes.”
She did, immediately.
“Control your breathing, control your thoughts . . . and you are prepared for battle.”
He dropped his hands.
“’Tis not a battle that awaits us belowstairs,” she hesitated. “Or is it?”
Guy sighed. “I do not know. When I entered the hall to fetch us a loaf of bread, I heard whispers of a retinue led by a lord.”
“How do you know ’tis Lord Burge?”
“It did not take long for the whispers to gain a name. I came here immediately.”
“You feared for me to be alone?”
“Aye.”
Though calmer, Sabine was still afraid.
“You are mine now.”
Her heart lurched.
“He has no claim on you anymore and will be leaving here with the men who accompanied him. Not”—his eyes narrowed—“with you. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
But then realized . . .
“You are but one man. How many accompany him?”
He cocked his head. “I seem to remember a similar discussion just yesterday. And you’ll remember how that ended for a certain sellsword.”
She would really have to ask him how a sellsword differed from a mercenary like himself.
“But certainly you would not kill Lord Burge.”
Guy reached behind her, his shoulder brushing hers, and picked up her gown. Handing it to her, he said, “For you?”
He turned to leave, but when he reached the door, he turned back to look at her, his expression so serious it sent a shiver down her back.
“I would kill anyone, if necessary. Lord Burge and his men included.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter 16
By the blood of Christ.
After taunting Sabine the previous night, Guy had lain awake for hours attempting to calm his body. Unfortunately, the same training that had allowed him to charge into battle without breaking a sweat had failed him.
Lying next to Sabine, close enough to touch but not touching, had been torturous. So, pretending to be asleep, he’d reached out for her. She’d come to him, nestling close, something that had only inflamed his desire.
