tugged.
“Did I tell those men I was taking you to my bed? Did I promise them your screams and the tale of it on the morrow?” He lifted the other foot.
“Nay.” She dropped the first boot and took hold of the second. Confusion reigned. He may have said he would not dishonor her, but he gave no explanation either. “Not many weeks past, you promised I would share your bed if you ever found me alone here again. Now, you say I will spend the nights in the solar. ’Tis where you sleep. How can those men think anything except that I share your bed?” The boot resisted her tugs. She bent her back to it.
“I have always said I would not force you. My promise tonight said naught of what others would think. I have seen how the men look at you. Were you chained in the dungeon, at best, your honor would be gone by morning. At worst, you would be dead by an assassin’s knife. None would confess to either. If you lived and accused any man, you would not be believed because of your other lies.”
Larkin gave an angry heave and the boot came loose. “And what, pray, is to keep those men you set to guard me during the day from murder or taking what you deny them at night?”
“As each man is assigned, he will be clearly identified. Should any harm come to you under his care, he will be held to account for it and publicly hung or disciplined.”
“He could as easily lie in daylight as in dark.”
“True, but you will not be chained. I saw what you did to Wat the miller and have experienced your, ahem, defensive abilities myself. I am certain you would mark any man who dared to lay hands on you without your leave. Others know this as well and thus will hesitate to ignore my orders.”
“Aye.” She picked up the fallen boot and placed the pair together at the foot of the bed. “They would that.”
She remained near the bottom of the bed, twisting her hands.
Talon stood and removed his belt. He put his hands to the waist of his chausses. He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you want something?”
“You are quite certain you do not want me to share your bed?”
He laughed. “Nay, I did not say that.”
“I’m confused.”
“Sweet Larkin. I repeat: I will not force you.”
“And you mean that?”
“I do. But you will one day tell me you want me.”
“Never.”
“We shall see. Now go to sleep, before you see more than you wish.”
Larkin felt her cheeks heat. She whipped around to avoid his nakedness and searched the chamber for a place to rest. A pillow sailed past her head, landing on the lambskin stretched before the hearth.
“Use my cloak to cover you, and take a blanket from the chest for additional warmth.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“You are welcome.”
The bed hangings rattled, along with the creak of ropes as he settled into the bed, and she heard him hum that cursed song.
The song stopped. “Larkin.”
“Aye.”
“Do not try to leave. You will not be safe if I am not near.”
“Aye.”
The humming began again. The ropes creaked. Larkin bent to cover the lambskin with the insulating blanket, then snuggled beneath the fine wool cloak. Sleep eluded her, thanks to his infernal humming. When would he cease torturing her? Eventually, soft snores replaced the tune, but still, sleep avoided her wooly bed.
The lambskin kept the cold from her bones and cushioned the hard floor. The cloak shielded her from the air. She should have been comfortable. But the cinnamon and musk scent of the man who owned the cloak surrounded her as surely as if he embraced her. She tossed. She pounded on the pillow but could find no rest. The words of the song floated through her mind, followed by the image of herself spread naked and beckoning to Talon. ’Twas all his fault, drat the man. He might think he could win her over. Well, he could just think again.
CHAPTER SIX
Several days and a hundred hummings later, Larkin stomped toward the once secret portal she’d used to enter the keep as a ghost. Water
“Did I tell those men I was taking you to my bed? Did I promise them your screams and the tale of it on the morrow?” He lifted the other foot.
“Nay.” She dropped the first boot and took hold of the second. Confusion reigned. He may have said he would not dishonor her, but he gave no explanation either. “Not many weeks past, you promised I would share your bed if you ever found me alone here again. Now, you say I will spend the nights in the solar. ’Tis where you sleep. How can those men think anything except that I share your bed?” The boot resisted her tugs. She bent her back to it.
“I have always said I would not force you. My promise tonight said naught of what others would think. I have seen how the men look at you. Were you chained in the dungeon, at best, your honor would be gone by morning. At worst, you would be dead by an assassin’s knife. None would confess to either. If you lived and accused any man, you would not be believed because of your other lies.”
Larkin gave an angry heave and the boot came loose. “And what, pray, is to keep those men you set to guard me during the day from murder or taking what you deny them at night?”
“As each man is assigned, he will be clearly identified. Should any harm come to you under his care, he will be held to account for it and publicly hung or disciplined.”
“He could as easily lie in daylight as in dark.”
“True, but you will not be chained. I saw what you did to Wat the miller and have experienced your, ahem, defensive abilities myself. I am certain you would mark any man who dared to lay hands on you without your leave. Others know this as well and thus will hesitate to ignore my orders.”
“Aye.” She picked up the fallen boot and placed the pair together at the foot of the bed. “They would that.”
She remained near the bottom of the bed, twisting her hands.
Talon stood and removed his belt. He put his hands to the waist of his chausses. He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you want something?”
“You are quite certain you do not want me to share your bed?”
He laughed. “Nay, I did not say that.”
“I’m confused.”
“Sweet Larkin. I repeat: I will not force you.”
“And you mean that?”
“I do. But you will one day tell me you want me.”
“Never.”
“We shall see. Now go to sleep, before you see more than you wish.”
Larkin felt her cheeks heat. She whipped around to avoid his nakedness and searched the chamber for a place to rest. A pillow sailed past her head, landing on the lambskin stretched before the hearth.
“Use my cloak to cover you, and take a blanket from the chest for additional warmth.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“You are welcome.”
The bed hangings rattled, along with the creak of ropes as he settled into the bed, and she heard him hum that cursed song.
The song stopped. “Larkin.”
“Aye.”
“Do not try to leave. You will not be safe if I am not near.”
“Aye.”
The humming began again. The ropes creaked. Larkin bent to cover the lambskin with the insulating blanket, then snuggled beneath the fine wool cloak. Sleep eluded her, thanks to his infernal humming. When would he cease torturing her? Eventually, soft snores replaced the tune, but still, sleep avoided her wooly bed.
The lambskin kept the cold from her bones and cushioned the hard floor. The cloak shielded her from the air. She should have been comfortable. But the cinnamon and musk scent of the man who owned the cloak surrounded her as surely as if he embraced her. She tossed. She pounded on the pillow but could find no rest. The words of the song floated through her mind, followed by the image of herself spread naked and beckoning to Talon. ’Twas all his fault, drat the man. He might think he could win her over. Well, he could just think again.
CHAPTER SIX
Several days and a hundred hummings later, Larkin stomped toward the once secret portal she’d used to enter the keep as a ghost. Water
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