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A hard arm slammed across her, not painfully but firmly, to pin her against him and she was crushed against an unyielding chest. Unable to move, the only weapon left was her teeth; she sank them into his hand, and heard a harsh curse.

“Christ,

Celia! Vicious little hellcat—listen to me! It’s Colter—have you forgotten me already?”

Slowly his words penetrated, and she sagged against him with relief.

“Oh God, Colter…oh God, he’ll kill you, too! You’ve got to get away, you’ve got to…he knows…Philip—”

“Hush, love. It’s all right. Philip isn’t able to kill anyone.” He held her tightly against him, his hand tangled in her hair, loose now somehow, a sticky mess that hung in her eyes and waved down her back. His fingers tightened to slowly tilt her head so that she was looking up at him, at the face she’d thought she would never see again.

“It’s all right, my love. You’re safe. No one will harm you. I’m here, and I don’t intend to ever let you out of my sight again.”

Her knees gave way and she collapsed so that he had to quickly tighten his grip; he lowered her to the ground.

“You’re bleeding—Did he do this? God, I’d like to kill him all over again!”

“No!” Her head snapped up, eyes wide as she searched his face, mostly shadowed with his head bent, the moonlight creating a hazy aureole around him. “Tell me you didn’t kill him, Colter…you’ll hang for it!”

“I don’t think so, love. Here…dammit, your legs look as if knives were used on them.” He felt down her calf, then saw her bare foot. Lifting it, he carefully brushed away the sand, taking care not to irritate the cuts. “God…Celia. No, don’t argue with me. I’m carrying you back to the carriage. You’re in no condition to walk another step. Not like this.”

Despite her protests, he lifted her into his arms and held her against him as he carried her effortlessly, his boots sinking into the sand but his stride steady.

She lay her head against his shoulder and put her arms around his neck, shivering from cold and reaction. Her body ached and now she felt the sting from the cuts on her legs and feet, yet somehow, she’d never felt better in her life.

The rest was a blur. Later, when she was safely in the huge canopied bed freshened with clean sheets, Barbara fussing about her and Jacqueline anxiously hovering close by, she could not bear to think of all that had happened. All that mattered now was that she was safe, and that Colter was safe—and with her again.

She wakened early in the morning, starting up with a soft cry from a troubled dream, and saw him sitting in a chair at the side of her bed, a brandy snifter in one hand.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he said. “You’re safe.”

She needed to hear it, needed to know that he was near, and she lay back against the fat feather pillows with a soft sigh of relief.

“You should sleep,” she murmured, and he shook his head.

“I’ll sleep. Later.”

She wanted to ask him questions, but oddly enough, she fell asleep again.

There must have been something in the hot milk she’d been given, for she lay with her eyes closed, too sleepy to open them but awake enough now to hear whispered conversations.

“Christ,” he said harshly, “I nearly got her killed. How do you think I feel?”

Jacqueline’s voice was soft and patient. “I must know how you feel about her, my lord. It is important to me.”

“Why? You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

There was a pause, then in a pained voice, Jacqueline said, “You don’t mean that.”

“No. No, I don’t. Oh God—” He sounded tortured, grim. “I don’t know what I’m saying half the time anymore. If you had seen her…running like a wild thing, panicked as a fox before the hounds. I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my mind. Bleeding, exhausted, yet still she had the courage to fight me. I’ve seen infantrymen panic under less threatening circumstances. Yet she was so valiant.”

“You love her.” Jacqueline’s voice was soft, wondering. “You really do love her.…”

“Of course I love her! Do you think I would make a bargain I didn’t want to make? I’ve dealt with much more dangerous threats than your implied intimidation, my lady.”

“Ah.” In a tone reeking with satisfaction, Jacqueline said, “It would be very nice if you told her how you feel when she wakes, my lord. Very nice. Women, you see, need to hear it in order to remind themselves that a man loves them. The little things you do, yes, that is very good as well, but it’s the words…the assurance, and three little words are not so very hard to say, are they? No, I do not think they are. Say them to her.”

Silence fell, expanded, soft and pressing so that Celia could almost feel it. She lay so still, unwilling to move until she heard his reply.

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