Page 29

“Or Scotland. You are aware Matilda’s uncle, David of Scotland, supports her claim as well?”

“I am.”

“I overheard my father, once, speaking to a Scotsman, who discussed Henry as a suitor to one of David’s strongest supporter’s daughters. I do not believe any of Empress Matilda’s sons to be wanting for suitors.”

“Could they simply be pacifying your father until the cause is won?”

“Perhaps. But my father is not a stupid man, either. He will use my betrothal as a bargaining chip for his continued support. ’Tis not coin alone but silence about the knight school and Ashford’s hospitality that is desirable.”

His stance shifted. Gareth’s eyes hooded as he closed the space between them. “I’ve less discipline with you than I would like, Evie.” Gareth lifted her chin with his finger. “I’ve reined in my desire for you since the moment we met. And should not have given in, even for a kiss. But now that I’ve done so, your lips beckon me. I would feel the fullness of them once again beneath my own.”

It was as if she were being consumed by him, heart and soul. As he said, they should not have kissed. Nor should they be meeting here like this. But when Evie was uncertain that she would see him again, something inside her had snapped. She no longer wished to take a chance on not knowing Gareth in that way.

“I would like that, very much.”

The words were hardly out of her lips before he leaned down to her. This time, Evie knew what to do. She knew how to kiss him back properly, and because of it, this was an entirely different kind of kiss. It was as if Gareth asked for more, and Evie gave it. As their arms wrapped around each other, she opened wider.

When Gareth’s hands lowered to her backside, pulling Evie toward him, she welcomed the touch. And though she could not feel him beneath her gown, Evie was not completely innocent to the ways of the world. Amalia had explained much to her, though words alone could not fully prepare Evie for the quivers inside her stomach.

Or chest.

Or every other place in her body.

She moved closer, if such a thing were possible.

Gareth groaned.

“Have I hurt you?” she asked, pulling away.

“Nay, Evie. At least, not in the way you are thinking.”

She blinked.

“You have not hurt me,” he repeated. “Though it does pain me to know we cannot stay here much longer.”

Evie didn’t consider leaving his arms. They felt much too good, too safe. But he was right. This could not last for long.

“What will we do?” she asked, aware there was not much to be done. It was a nonsensical question, but she asked it anyway.

Gareth turned so serious that it almost startled her. She was accustomed to his easy smile. His expression now was one she imagined he gave during a tournament just as he was about to joust.

She shivered. “Gareth?”

“I cannot answer you, precisely, Evie. But know this well. No other man will have you.”

Her mouth opened. Evie did not know what to say. “I . . .” she began, only to close her mouth once again. Gareth sounded so certain of the fact, she almost believed him.

She wanted to believe him, even though it was not true.

“Do you wish to be with me, Evie?”

“I am risking much, as you know, to do so right now. Of course,” she added, not wishing to be uncharitable. “I wish to be with you. To learn more about you.” Evie smiled. “To have you kiss me again.”

“I would kiss you all day,” Gareth said, leaning down and doing just that. First on her lips. Then again, on her cheek. And neck. As his lips moved lower, Evie’s insides swirled, as if demanding her attention.

“Gareth,” she whispered. Evie grasped the back of his head as his tongue and lips devastated every part of her bare skin. “Something, I cannot name,” she said, unable to form any coherent words.

He stood. “Desire, Evie. Your body responds to me, as mine does to you.”