troubles in your life, I would never have allowed my feelings for you to grow, or for you to kiss me, much less make love.”
“Point of order. We have not made love.”
“Not for my lack of trying.”
He smiled but then had to stop himself. “I cannot in good conscience take something that you should be saving for the man who will win your heart someday.”
“Oh, Arthur, you dolt. Do you not realize you have already won my heart?”
He could not help it. He cupped her face and kissed her. It was almost savage at first, but he attempted to cool his desires. Softening the kiss he coaxed her mouth open. He marveled at how their lips seemed so in line. They were meant to intertwine.
Her tongue tasted of mint and his knees nearly buckled when it traced his lips before returning to tangle with his own. ’Twas a devastating thought that this might be as close to the act of lovemaking that they would e’er get. And after the amazing sight of her naked body, ’twas near to unbearable.
She broke the kiss afore he was ready, but he accepted it as her right. Her kiss-swollen lips and dazed eyes just continued to make his body betray him all the more with desire. Yet he stepped back, bending over with hands on his thighs, attempting to retain his control. His breaths heaved in and out of his chest. Finally, he squeezed his eyes shut once, then stood. “I must needs walk this off afore we leave the forest.”
“Arthur?”
“Yes?”
“I think I have something to say that might cool your ardor.”
“A dunking in Lake Camelot naked in the middle of winter would not manage to cool my ardor, Countess.”
“This admission may just do that.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because I was not completely honest with you.”
That worked. Arthur had been subjected to more lies and betrayals in the past months to last any man’s lifetime. He crossed his arms over his hurting, burning, squeezing chest. “I am listening.”
She obviously saw something in his face that worried her, as she began biting at her lower lip. “It’s not any lie I told you, it was not dishonesty. It was more that you took me by surprise with your reaction to something and I was startled and embarrassed and—”
“Please, to the point, Isabel. I am ready for whate’er this is.” He was not, not by any means. But to know what you were facing was a much better tactical battle strategy than not knowing what or who would be betraying you next.
“Please don’t be angry.”
“I cannot predict my emotions or reactions until I understand what I am facing.”
“When we . . . When you and I . . . When we . . .”
“Please, Isabel, do not torture me any longer.”
She took a deep breath. “When I could not figure out how to help you take off your clothes . . . do you remember?”
“That memory is seared in my mind, Isabel. I have thought of almost nothing else since this morn. What about it?”
“It was true that I didn’t even know where to begin to help you out of your garments.”
“I remember.”
“It wasn’t because I knew nothing of a man’s clothing.”
“It seemed quite apparent to me.”
She waved. “Yes, yes, I was confused by how all of your clothes came together. Or came apart, as it were. But it wasn’t because I had never been with a man.”
“My pardon?”
“I am not a virgin, Arthur. But you made that assumption, and I was confused and embarrassed and—”
He felt his own jaw drop. “Are you saying back there,” he asked, hiking his thumb over his shoulder toward the castle, “and here, in this forest, we could have been making love, but that you knew not how to undress me?”
“Something like that.”
His astonishment and relief was so overwhelming that the disappointment over lost opportunities fell by the wayside. He started laughing. “This is your horrible secret?”
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked, standing tall and looking all huffy and haughty.
“No, Isabel, I am laughing at myself. How many times this day I indulged in fantasy and justification for seducing you without regard to your future. The many times I considered how to gently introduce you without harming you and to forget the guilt that might accompany me after the pleasure.”
“So you are not angry?”
He could not stop himself from laughing. “I am furious.”
She eyed him skeptically. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“You have no idea how many possible betrayals passed through my mind. I was, as I have heard you say, scared shitless of what you might tell me. This, Isabel, did not make my list.”
“So that furious part? Is it directed at me?”
“No, it is directed at me, for not giving you a chance to explain. One rule that I teach all of my soldiers is to listen. I was not listening.”
“I was not talking. I pretty much lied by omission.”
He stroked his chin, the relief coursing through him almost making him weak. “Is that the extent of your exorbitant perfidy, Countess?”
She took a moment, wagging her forefingers to and fro. “Yep, I believe that’s about it.”
“And are you contrite?” he asked, unable to keep the smile from his face.
“I cannot tell you how much. You are not the only one who has thought of little else.”
“Then this king has decided to absolve you. It shall never occur again, am I right?”
She curtsied. “My most dire wish, sir, is that it actually begins to occur.”
“You will allow me to teach you how to undress me?”
“I have always been a big proponent of higher education.”
He grinned, picked her up and twirled her around. “I am so in love with you, Isabel.”
He set her down, dumbfounded that those words had escaped his lips. The shock on her face told him they were very premature. “I am sorry. I know not from where that came. Perhaps an abundance of exuberance.”
“Perhaps from the heart?” she whispered.
“But those were not words you were prepared to hear.”
“It doesn’t make them any less special. In fact, more so, as they were not planned. You spoke what you were thinking.”
He shook his head. “I had no right. And I know ’tis a sentiment you perhaps are not prepared to return.”
“Then again,” she said, running a finger from his temple to chin, “perhaps it is.”
“If ’tis, may I hear the words from your lovely lips?”
“I am falling in love with you, Arthur. It seems an untenable situation, but the heart wants what it wants, right?”
“It does.”
She offered him an impish grin. “Last nonvirgin to the castle has to be served all of the eel.”
He watched for a moment as she lifted her skirts and then took off running.
Grinning, bursting with happiness and gratitude to the gods or to fate, he took off after her. Not very fast, however, for he was well aware of her aversion to eel.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
