Did she desire him, too? He closed his eyes. He had to stop thinking this way. He wanted to protect her from men who would use her body for their sick pleasures. He wasn’t one of those men. He could resist her because he had command over himself.
He put out the lanterns then stripped down to his braies. He walked around to the other side of the bed and got in. She turned over on her side to face him as soon as his head hit the pillow.
“You see?” she said softly. Her warm breath fell against his chin. “There is plenty of room. Are you comfortable?”
“Aye, lass.” She was close. He wanted to pull her closer. He shut his eyes. It was best if they went straight to sleep.
“What shall we talk about?”
“Talk aboot?” His belly knotted. He wasn’t one for talking. He kept to himself. It was safer for everyone he loved.
“Aye. Tell me about something from your childhood. Or about your siblings. What are they called?”
“I am the oldest,” he began. What could it hurt? He turned on his side to face her. He was sharing a little of himself. Not too much. It felt odd because he hadn’t done it before. “Elysande is my sister, and my three brothers are Cameron, Milo, and David is the babe. Was the babe.”
“How long has it been since you have seen them?”
“Let me think.” The longer he thought about it, the worse he felt. “A long time.”
“What kept you away from the people you love for so long?”
She was asking a lot. She had a way of getting under his skin and making him talk. Why did it feel right, lying here, face to face with her in the shadows, listening to her breathing, and liking the feel of her breath on his neck or chin when she looked up? It was more intimate than anything he’d ever experienced and they had barely touched, though she had laid her hand on his arm while he spoke. He rested his hand on her waist and thought about his answer.
“My life and who I am have kept me away.”
“Explain this,” she requested, lifting her fingers to his hair. Her touch was cautious and curious. He remained still and closed his eyes. She’d lived a secluded life. She admitted to not knowing how to talk to people. He didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a man. He let her curiosity reign.
“My father is the greatest warrior in all of Scotland and England,” he told her, madly enough, wanting to tell her more. “He taught me everythin’ beginnin’ from before I could remember.” He smiled in the dark thinking of his father, Cainnech MacPherson, missing him like a kick to the heart. His love for battle, bred into him by his father, kept him from his kin. But he missed them all. He missed the gatherings and seeing his uncle and their families. They usually all met in the great hall every night and ate together. His childhood was spent honing his skills. He grew up quickly, aware of death and willing to face it. When he returned from France with King David, he didn’t return home to the MacPherson stronghold. There were times when he wanted to go. But he didn’t know how to put down his sword. He’d learned many ways to stay alive, but he never lived. “I feel like I was born with a knife in my hands,” he told her in the silence. “Fightin’ is in my veins, my blood. I left everythin’ fer it. When I was a young lad, ’twas all I had time fer. When my cousins were gettin’ into one kind of trouble or another, I was learnin’ how to fight, to defend myself and…anyone I came to care fer. I know nothin’ of love, or—”
She giggled and assured him in the darkness, “You are doing things right.”
His belly burned in the darkness. Did she like him?
“Tell me more,” she whispered.
He’d already told her more than he’d told anyone, but his mouth was already opening. Being here with her felt right, like mayhap, he could lower his weapon “I left my kins’ quiet home when I was aboot ten and five and was part of young King David’s exile to France. I became his protector and spied oot his enemies then killed them before they could cause him harm.”
“You were a spy?” she asked a bit breathlessly.
“When I had to be.” He brushed her hair away from her eyes and felt a surge of heat rush through him. It was desire, and more.
It was the more that scared him.
Chapter Five
Rose listened to Tristan tell her about his life. She loved hearing about the places he’d been—not so much about what he’d done in those places, but what towns were like in France, and how the sun set over the Highland mountains illuminating the jagged skyline in shades of crimson, gray, and indigo. She imagined it. She wanted to see it. The more he told her, the more she didn’t want to return home.
“Was yer childhood verra difficult?” he asked her.
She sighed and hesitated to give him a rash response. “I had a friend…” she began slowly. “He was a servant. He was older than me—more like a brother. He always promised to take me away from the walls.”
“Why did he not do it?”
She shook her head. “I do not know. He’d gone to Kirkhead on business for my father. After my mother was killed and the gates were locked, he never returned.”
“Did he try”
“No. I’m told he did not. I had no other friends, just my father’s guards. Fourteen of them. Some were tolerant of me, others were not. After the gates were locked, Captain Harper was kind to me and patient. He became
