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"It's just there. A mile or so."
They hadn't ridden a minute when a break in the trees revealed the warm glow of a nearby cottage. She was back in civilization. She hadn't needed his help at all. "Let me down."
"What?"
"I don't want your help. Let me down."
"You haven't any clothes on, Alex."
"The better to negotiate a fair price for the room."
His laughter spurred her anger and she straggled to free her fist from the blankets and pummel him. "I've been an ass."
"Yes."
"A terrible husband."
"It seems we've had this conversation before." That silenced him for a few seconds. Her legs began to ache as her blood warmed them.
"So we have."
"I am going home, Collin. We
will both be happier."
"I will not. But if you would hear me out, if you'll talk with me this night, I will let you go in the morning. If you still wish to."
"Really?" She couldn't keep the shock from her voice, though she managed to disguise the sharp hurt. She had never imagined he'd give his blessing, no matter that he did not want her as a wife. But he sounded resigned to it, as if he too had realized that he couldn't stand her.
"We'll speak then," she forced herself to say. "Tonight." More than her legs ached now. Her jaw hurt, her throat and her heart. She could not want him and yet she did. Could not bear the thought of loving him, yet there was no stopping it.
The wind died a little as Thor walked them toward the inn. An owl hooted above their heads. Alex turned her face toward Collin and smelled sweat and horse, wood smoke and wet. And she smelled him, her lover and husband. His scent made her weak and heavy and her heart swelled with pain.
Why could he not love her?
"What happened to Brinn? The ice?"
"Yes. She slipped and started limping right off."
"How long have you been walking then?"
Her shrug shifted his arm. When he resettled it, he pulled her closer and she let him. Just this last time, she told herself. She had missed this so much.
The sound of his heart lulled her, gentling the strain in her throat until she caught herself rubbing her cheek against him. The arm that supported her back tightened and snugged her firmly into his embrace. When he leaned down to press a kiss to her hair, she found herself cocooned by his body.
Bastard.
I am only chilled, she told herself in pitiful defense. I must be kept close.
And you have always been weak for him, the broken part of her heart replied. Always.
A full minute passed before she could gather the strength to push up, to straighten her spine to a semblance of independence. One of his arms fell away, and then they crested the hill and there was the inn, lights and raucous laughter a clear beacon in the cold.
It seemed to take a damned eternity to arrange for food and hot tea, to see to Thor and wrap Brinn's knee. By the time he got back to the room, Collin had begun to fear he'd find himself alone, abandoned again. But his wife was there, bundled into bed, her beautiful face lit by a glowing hearth. She was warm again, he could see, even beginning to sweat a little so that tiny curls stuck to her temples in black rings. He wanted to set his mouth there and taste her. He did not.
Instead he stood, back to the door, and watched her sleep. Just this was a relief—to be in the same room with her. This was what always frightened him, that her mere presence felt like a blessing. How could he live easy with her when she might leave at any moment? When she might grow tired of him or take ill and die? How could he turn to her for his happiness when he could not control her?
Well, he had no choice. He needed her. It calmed him just to admit it.
