moment.
“That comment does neither me, Inés, nor you any justice.” He lowered his gaze to the cittern and tested one of the strings, then adjusted its tension.
Alonsa felt a flush pass over her face, and she glanced at Inés to ensure she had not heard her unworthy comment. She need not have feared; both Fritz and the hare occupied Inés’ attentions, and she was too far away to hear their softly spoken conversation.
“Of course you are right.” Alonsa sighed. “Forgive me. I am simply … anxious.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
“And cold, too, by the looks of it.” Günter put down the cittern and picked up his sword, balancing it casually over one shoulder. He rose and held out his hand to her.
“Come and walk with me.” His voice held a smoky edge to it, rough and yet inviting at the same time. It might have been the very voice the serpent used in the Garden of Eden to tempt Eve toward her downfall.
Alonsa only resisted its pull with a supreme effort of will. She took a step back. “Where?”
One corner of his mouth lifted, and those fascinating green eyes crinkled in a subtle display of humor. Oh, his eyes … She might resist his voice, but she could never resist his eyes.
He still held out his hand to her.
“We need more wood to cook the hare and warm you as well. You can help me gather it.” He gestured to their companions. “It would take more effort to pry Fritz away from Inés’ side than to gather the wood ourselves. Unless you would prefer to warm yourself in the circle of my arms …”
“I will help you gather the wood,” she said quickly.
This time both corners of his mouth lifted in amusement.
“Pity, though I suppose you are right. We still need the wood for cooking. Come.”
She glanced up at the darkening sky. Purple and orange streaks decorated the edges of the heavens. Night approached.
“Can we gather it here? It grows dark soon.”
“The wood here is too wet.” He pointed to a softly sloping hillside. “The wood on higher ground will not smoke as much. A smoky fire can reveal our position to passersby. Besides, I have an innate sense of direction. I can find my way around quite well in the dark.” His smile turned playful. “You’d be surprised how well.”
She put her hands on her hips.
“Must everything be a jest to you?”
He grew still, suddenly intense.
“Not everything. Some things I am quite serious about. Would you like to know what they are? Or would you prefer to gather the wood?”
She sighed and rubbed her temples. This constant banter wearied her—she never knew what she might say that would cause him to tease her. Resisting the urge to tease back grew increasingly harder.
“Let us gather the wood, please.”
“Wise choice.”
She let him take her hand in a gesture of familiarity that surprised her. He enveloped it with his own and smoothed his thumb over the tender hills of her palm. Not once did he take his eyes off her as he called to Inés and Fritz that they were leaving.
They turned and climbed the sloping hillside together into the gathering dusk.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“W HAT IS THAT SONG YOU SING? ” A LONSA ASKED Günter as they trudged through dead leaves and kicked aside pebbles in search of the best kindling wood. “It is beautiful. Do I know it?”
Günter’s hand still lightly clasped hers. She tried to ignore the warmth of his big palm; tried to forget the last time she had felt it upon her body.
He glanced at her and leaned down to retrieve a fat stick of wood.
“It is nothing. A little tune I am composing.” He handed the wood to her.
She took it without thinking.
“You have time to compose your own music?”
His eyes flickered, then went blank.
“Aye, between hacking men to death and bedding every wench in sight, I manage to write a lyric or two.” He dropped her hand and turned away.
Realizing she had annoyed him, she hurried to his side.
“Günter …”
“That is what you
“That comment does neither me, Inés, nor you any justice.” He lowered his gaze to the cittern and tested one of the strings, then adjusted its tension.
Alonsa felt a flush pass over her face, and she glanced at Inés to ensure she had not heard her unworthy comment. She need not have feared; both Fritz and the hare occupied Inés’ attentions, and she was too far away to hear their softly spoken conversation.
“Of course you are right.” Alonsa sighed. “Forgive me. I am simply … anxious.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
“And cold, too, by the looks of it.” Günter put down the cittern and picked up his sword, balancing it casually over one shoulder. He rose and held out his hand to her.
“Come and walk with me.” His voice held a smoky edge to it, rough and yet inviting at the same time. It might have been the very voice the serpent used in the Garden of Eden to tempt Eve toward her downfall.
Alonsa only resisted its pull with a supreme effort of will. She took a step back. “Where?”
One corner of his mouth lifted, and those fascinating green eyes crinkled in a subtle display of humor. Oh, his eyes … She might resist his voice, but she could never resist his eyes.
He still held out his hand to her.
“We need more wood to cook the hare and warm you as well. You can help me gather it.” He gestured to their companions. “It would take more effort to pry Fritz away from Inés’ side than to gather the wood ourselves. Unless you would prefer to warm yourself in the circle of my arms …”
“I will help you gather the wood,” she said quickly.
This time both corners of his mouth lifted in amusement.
“Pity, though I suppose you are right. We still need the wood for cooking. Come.”
She glanced up at the darkening sky. Purple and orange streaks decorated the edges of the heavens. Night approached.
“Can we gather it here? It grows dark soon.”
“The wood here is too wet.” He pointed to a softly sloping hillside. “The wood on higher ground will not smoke as much. A smoky fire can reveal our position to passersby. Besides, I have an innate sense of direction. I can find my way around quite well in the dark.” His smile turned playful. “You’d be surprised how well.”
She put her hands on her hips.
“Must everything be a jest to you?”
He grew still, suddenly intense.
“Not everything. Some things I am quite serious about. Would you like to know what they are? Or would you prefer to gather the wood?”
She sighed and rubbed her temples. This constant banter wearied her—she never knew what she might say that would cause him to tease her. Resisting the urge to tease back grew increasingly harder.
“Let us gather the wood, please.”
“Wise choice.”
She let him take her hand in a gesture of familiarity that surprised her. He enveloped it with his own and smoothed his thumb over the tender hills of her palm. Not once did he take his eyes off her as he called to Inés and Fritz that they were leaving.
They turned and climbed the sloping hillside together into the gathering dusk.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“W HAT IS THAT SONG YOU SING? ” A LONSA ASKED Günter as they trudged through dead leaves and kicked aside pebbles in search of the best kindling wood. “It is beautiful. Do I know it?”
Günter’s hand still lightly clasped hers. She tried to ignore the warmth of his big palm; tried to forget the last time she had felt it upon her body.
He glanced at her and leaned down to retrieve a fat stick of wood.
“It is nothing. A little tune I am composing.” He handed the wood to her.
She took it without thinking.
“You have time to compose your own music?”
His eyes flickered, then went blank.
“Aye, between hacking men to death and bedding every wench in sight, I manage to write a lyric or two.” He dropped her hand and turned away.
Realizing she had annoyed him, she hurried to his side.
“Günter …”
“That is what you
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