When they returned to the ladder, Caragh paused. ‘If you want to go home without Alarr, Breanne, we can find another way.’
Breanne hesitated, knowing that Alarr would fight back against anyone who tried to take her. But despite his possessive demeanour, he had never mistreated her. With each passing day, he granted her a little more freedom. She had revealed more about her life than she had intended, but it was strange to realise that it had lifted the burden. Nearly a fortnight had passed, and no one had come for her, save Alarr. To a certain extent, the ground between them was shifting. It was not yet friendship...but she did not consider him an enemy, either. If her father’s men tried to harm Alarr, it would bother her.
And she didn’t know what to think of that.
Caragh paused a moment, resting her hand upon the ladder. ‘What do you want to do, Breanne?’
‘I’m not certain,’ she confessed. ‘Alarr did save me from the slave market when no one else did.’ The bitterness returned, even though she realised it was difficult for anyone to track her by sea. ‘I feel as if I owe him the chance to take me home,’ she admitted.
And yet, she knew so little about the man. It was far too soon to trust him. In the end, she said, ‘I will think upon it and let you know.’
‘As you will. But be careful.’ Caragh met her gaze for a long moment before she led the way up the ladder.
The air was warmer above ground, and once they returned to the centre of the settlement, the scent of stew and fish kindled her hunger. The older women had remained behind with the younger babies, and the waiting food was a welcome sight. Breanne searched for Alarr, and when at last he caught her gaze, there was no denying the heat within it. His tunic was damp with sweat, and his eyes drank in the sight of her. He looked as if he wanted to take her hand and drag her into a darkened corner. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought. She felt a sense of guilt about her attraction, but then Caragh’s words came back to her. He desires you.
Her flush went all the way to her toes. She wasn’t accustomed to attention, for she preferred to remain apart from others. Men usually ignored her, except when King Feann had forced her to stand before them. Or when he had seated her beside him on the dais at the queen’s place. It made her feel uncomfortable to have so many people watching her. She had only agreed because she knew there was no one else.
She wondered if Caragh’s words were true, that Alarr’s family had great wealth. Why then, would he go to such a pretence? Or why would he journey so far?
Breanne couldn’t imagine any reason at all. If she asked him, he would never admit the truth. She would have to gain his trust, possibly even his interest. He might be more willing to speak if she behaved in a softer manner towards him. She was unaccustomed to using feminine wiles upon a man, but she needed to know if Alarr posed a threat to her foster father.
He joined the other men, lining up for food. She held back, waiting her own turn, but to her surprise, he crossed the space and stood before her. ‘You need to eat,’ he said, offering her the wooden plate of food.
‘But that’s yours,’ she protested.
She saw that he was about to argue, and instead suggested, ‘Why don’t we share? If we are still hungry, we can get more.’
At that, he relented. Breanne led him towards one of the outdoor hearth fires and sat upon a log nearby. He joined her and offered her the first choice of the fish. She broke off a piece of trout, but instead of holding it out, she brought it to his mouth. Her fingertips grazed his lips, and Alarr caught her hand. ‘What are you doing, Breanne?’ His gaze narrowed upon her clumsy attempt to gain his notice.
‘Offering you food.’ She feigned innocence, but he would have none of it. She realised then, that she had been too obvious. Instantly, she dropped the fish back on the plate. ‘If you don’t want it, fine.’ She picked up the bread and tore it in half, eating her portion without looking at him.
Only then did he take his own bread. She felt her cheeks burning, for he was already mistrustful of her. She should have known that he would suspect any kindness she showed to him.
He offered her the plate again, but this time she took her fish and left him half of it. He ate part of it, but then asked, ‘Do you want any more?’
‘I’ve had my fill.’ She remained seated beside him, while he finished the remainder.
An awkward silence descended between them, and he said at last, ‘If we bring in the harvest sooner, Styr will grant us the escorts. It may not take long.’
She nodded but said nothing. Eventually, Alarr rose from the log and brought the wooden plate to one of the older women, who took it from him. He brought back a cup of ale and handed it to Breanne.
She took a sip and then gave the cup to him. Alarr drained the ale and stood watching her for a moment. She felt the intensity of his gaze warming her skin, and at last, she lifted her chin to stare back. She was caught up in his handsome face, and then his mouth tilted
