assured her that Shannon wouldn't hesitate and, to her delight, she found it quenched her thirst well.
Afterward, they strolled through the orchard behind the inn and out into a hayfield that had just been reaped and stacked. She picked a handful of poppies and cornflowers. The air, was filled with pollen, and she began to sneeze.
"One for a wish, two for a kiss," claimed Paris, coming closer. Two more little sneezes followed, and she laughed. "Three for a letter, four for better."
She held up the wild flowers for him to admire, and he took her hands and gazed down into the amethyst eyes. "Five for a secret never to be told," he murmured softly, lifting her clear of the ground in an embrace that took her breath away. His mouth covered hers as he kissed her gently, slowly, thoroughly. She could feel her heart beating wildly. She was breathless at his touch. Her lashes swept down quickly as she recalled the last two lines, "Six for silver and seven for gold," and the moment was destroyed for her. She pulled away from him sharply. She must be mad to let him kiss her, when he had kidnapped her for gold.
When she pulled away from him, Paris was also brought to his senses. He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. If anyone watched him now, they would know she was not his sister. Who was following him, and was the castle being watched? The day had been a rare chance for him to relax and let his heavy responsibilities slip from his shoulders, yet the presence of the unknown rider, though not worrying him unduly, nevertheless provoked questions.
They reached the castle by dusk. Tabby was in a state of confusion, which had been produced by Paris's undivided attention all day. She realized she was vulnerable to this strong, handsome man. Was she so starved for affection that she was willing to close her eyes to all his faults? If she didn't get away soon, she knew she was in danger of losing her heart to him. Perhaps it was too late. Perhaps she had already fallen in love.
At the stables, he didn't help her dismount but watched her closely as she managed the task. "You rode well today. You can be proud of your accomplishment," he praised.
She lifted her face toward him in the dimness of the stables. "You will let me return to Edinburgh tomorrow, Paris, won't you?"
"No," he said shortly.
Her hand went to her throat in dismay, her eyes showing their hurt as if he had slapped her. "But you gave me your word you would reconsider," she cried.
"I have reconsidered, and upon that reconsideration, I have decided that you shall stay," he said harshly, his brows lowering in anger for the first time that day.
She was angry, too. She wanted to slap his face hard, but she did not dare, for she knew if he returned the slap, his strength would fell her. She picked up the velvet hem of the habit and ran swiftly from the stables.
"Thank God you are back," said Venetia. "She's been at it for hours."
"Who?" asked Tabby.
"Anne," said Venetia. "Paris is the only one who can calm her down."
"Who is Anne?" asked Tabby blankly.
"Paris's wife," stated Venetia.
"His what?" asked Tabby in shock. She felt a buzzing in her ears and thought she must have heard wrong. Icy fingers were clutching her heart until she thought it would stop from sheer misery. How could he have told her she was beautiful? How could he have kissed her like that? How could he have deliberately tried to make her fall in love with him when he had a wife in the castle? At this moment, her anger and her hatred for the man almost blinded her.
"Haven't we told you about Anne?" asked Damascus dreamily. "Oh, Paris was so in love when it all began. One glimpse of her and he walked about in a trance for weeks. It was such a whirlwind romance. He swept her off her feet. She was so small and beautiful, with hair the color of moonlight. They were so very much in love, then tragedy struck! She had a child and was never able to walk again. But he is so devoted to her. He always
Afterward, they strolled through the orchard behind the inn and out into a hayfield that had just been reaped and stacked. She picked a handful of poppies and cornflowers. The air, was filled with pollen, and she began to sneeze.
"One for a wish, two for a kiss," claimed Paris, coming closer. Two more little sneezes followed, and she laughed. "Three for a letter, four for better."
She held up the wild flowers for him to admire, and he took her hands and gazed down into the amethyst eyes. "Five for a secret never to be told," he murmured softly, lifting her clear of the ground in an embrace that took her breath away. His mouth covered hers as he kissed her gently, slowly, thoroughly. She could feel her heart beating wildly. She was breathless at his touch. Her lashes swept down quickly as she recalled the last two lines, "Six for silver and seven for gold," and the moment was destroyed for her. She pulled away from him sharply. She must be mad to let him kiss her, when he had kidnapped her for gold.
When she pulled away from him, Paris was also brought to his senses. He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. If anyone watched him now, they would know she was not his sister. Who was following him, and was the castle being watched? The day had been a rare chance for him to relax and let his heavy responsibilities slip from his shoulders, yet the presence of the unknown rider, though not worrying him unduly, nevertheless provoked questions.
They reached the castle by dusk. Tabby was in a state of confusion, which had been produced by Paris's undivided attention all day. She realized she was vulnerable to this strong, handsome man. Was she so starved for affection that she was willing to close her eyes to all his faults? If she didn't get away soon, she knew she was in danger of losing her heart to him. Perhaps it was too late. Perhaps she had already fallen in love.
At the stables, he didn't help her dismount but watched her closely as she managed the task. "You rode well today. You can be proud of your accomplishment," he praised.
She lifted her face toward him in the dimness of the stables. "You will let me return to Edinburgh tomorrow, Paris, won't you?"
"No," he said shortly.
Her hand went to her throat in dismay, her eyes showing their hurt as if he had slapped her. "But you gave me your word you would reconsider," she cried.
"I have reconsidered, and upon that reconsideration, I have decided that you shall stay," he said harshly, his brows lowering in anger for the first time that day.
She was angry, too. She wanted to slap his face hard, but she did not dare, for she knew if he returned the slap, his strength would fell her. She picked up the velvet hem of the habit and ran swiftly from the stables.
"Thank God you are back," said Venetia. "She's been at it for hours."
"Who?" asked Tabby.
"Anne," said Venetia. "Paris is the only one who can calm her down."
"Who is Anne?" asked Tabby blankly.
"Paris's wife," stated Venetia.
"His what?" asked Tabby in shock. She felt a buzzing in her ears and thought she must have heard wrong. Icy fingers were clutching her heart until she thought it would stop from sheer misery. How could he have told her she was beautiful? How could he have kissed her like that? How could he have deliberately tried to make her fall in love with him when he had a wife in the castle? At this moment, her anger and her hatred for the man almost blinded her.
"Haven't we told you about Anne?" asked Damascus dreamily. "Oh, Paris was so in love when it all began. One glimpse of her and he walked about in a trance for weeks. It was such a whirlwind romance. He swept her off her feet. She was so small and beautiful, with hair the color of moonlight. They were so very much in love, then tragedy struck! She had a child and was never able to walk again. But he is so devoted to her. He always
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