She scraped up the last of her stew with a bit of bread. “I’m tired.” She rose from her seat, and he did likewise.
“Allow me to walk ye to yer room.” He gave a little bow.
She scanned the room to see if anyone noticed. No one appeared to be looking at them, save a redhaired serving wench who was scowling in their direction.
“That isn’t necessary.” She headed for the stairs, and he quickly joined her.
He met her accusatory look with one of innocence. “I’m tired as well.”
He was near enough that she could smell the wonderful masculine spice of him. Truth be told, she liked him at her side, and so she offered no further protest as he followed her to her room, where he paused outside the door.
She opened her mouth to bid him goodnight when he reached up to her face and gently caressed her cheek. She stilled, knowing she ought to pull away.
And yet, she found she was unable to do so.
“Ye’re so verra beautiful, Kinsey,” he whispered. “I canna stop thinking about ye.”
Her breath came faster. Would he try to kiss her again?
Would she let him?
She could imagine him too perfectly, lowering his head to hers, the heat of his mouth brushing over her lips. Her pulse quickened.
“Did ye like my kiss?” he asked quietly.
How could she deny it when he was so near? When she craved him so desperately?
“It isna a matter of liking yer kiss or not,” she said. “It’s a matter of who ye are and who I am.”
“So ye did like it?”
Kinsey sighed in irritation at herself for being honest with him. “Aye.”
“We could do it again.” He gave an arrogant smile.
She ought to have hated his reaction, but it only endeared her to him more. “Kiss?”
He hummed in reply. “And more.” He leaned toward her and rested his arm against the door above her head, his solid body lightly pressed against hers. “I saw yer blush when I mentioned my wicked tongue. Did ye wonder what I might do with it? How I might give ye pleasure?”
The familiar heat of lust whipped up through her like a firestorm.
“Did ye wonder what part of ye I might taste?” His breath tickled her ear and sent prickles racing over her skin.
Oh, aye.
“Nay,” she heard herself say.
He backed up to look at her. His high cheekbones left shadows on the chiseled structure of his face, and his eyes were dark with lust. It would be so easy to kiss him, to shed her excuses and draw him into her room.
But Kinsey had never respected those women who easily fell prey to a man’s charms. While she had never truly understood the draw of lust before now, she still refused to act on her passions. She had a task to perform, and if she were to be respected as a warrior, she could not also be a lover.
“Ye must stop,” she said.
He straightened from her, immediately putting space between them. “If ye want me to stop, I will.”
Her reply caught in her throat while her head and her heart warred for what response might emerge.
He waited patiently at a respectable distance for her answer. In the end, all she could do was nod.
Because she didn’t want him to stop. But she knew she must be firm in her decision.
It was the idea of someone seeing him leave her room, of the men knowing of their lust for one another, which influenced her decision most. For them to look at her as though she was little more than a woman to warm William’s bed, when she’d worked so hard to become a warrior. One who had earned the men’s respect.
His gaze lingered on her a moment too long, and then he bowed politely. “Sleep well, bonny Kinsey. I will see ye at practice in the morn.” He straightened and walked away, leaving her alone in the hallway, burning with shame and lust.
10
William tossed and turned through the night. He’d anticipated sleeping in a real bed earlier that day. No matter that the mattress was lumpy and the straw inside in dire need of replacement. At least it wasn’t the ground.
And then he’d gone and blundered things with Kinsey. He’d been arrogant in his assumption that he could kiss her again, that they might enjoy a night in a bed together. He’d like to blame his poor decision on ale, but he hadn’t had all that much.
Not enough to lose himself.
Nay, that part had come from his attraction to her. Her curls had been damp when she’d come downstairs, the fiery locks darkened with moisture. She’d given him and Reid a quick nod of acknowledgment and bypassed William. God, but she drove him mad with her indifference.
It was those thoughts and many more that burned through the night and kept slumber at bay.
By the time he’d finally fallen into a restless sleep, the sun was already slanting through the shutters. When he managed to rouse himself, he realized with a sinking stomach that he was late to meet for practice.
He quickly dressed for the day and ran from the inn. The air was thick with the promise of more rain. He was able to arrive at the field outside the castle walls before the rain began to fall. Laird MacLeod was already there in front of the army, issuing commands with smooth authority. Though he wasn’t loud, his voice carried, and his instructions were obeyed.
But then, William’s soldiers were well trained.
His father faced him, and William’s stomach dropped.
“Were ye able to secure the rooms for several additional nights?” he demanded.
Behind him, Reid winked.
William sent his friend a silent word of thanks and nodded with confidence. “Aye.”
“These foul cities.” Laird MacLeod’s lip curled. “Always so damn busy. Again,” he called out to the soldiers.
They swiped their blades in a simultaneous arc. Including Kinsey.
Where had she even obtained a sword?
“They’re all in good order.” Laird MacLeod gestured in her direction. “Except that one.
