LITMIR.BIZ

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shiver Adam recognised as hope ran through him. She continued to fuss over the burns the bindings had made on his wrist. Idly, he reached for her curl and wound it loosely round his forefinger. Shifting closer, he inhaled: rosemary, soapwort, Cecily. Her scent wrapped round him, befuddling him. His wife.

      ‘And your sister?’ he asked, managing to stop himself from hauling her to him. ‘What will she do?’

      ‘I’m not sure. Edmund has offered to help Leofwine and Evie build a new house in Winchester. She may go and live there with the three of them for a time.’

      ‘She’s welcome to stay here. As is Edmund.’

      Cecily shook her head. ‘They won’t do that. Not at present. Maybe later, when memories have…faded.’ She hesitated, doubt in her eyes.

      He tipped his head to one side. ‘Yes?’

      ‘They’ll never tell you where that silver is. They won’t even tell me.’

      ‘I realise that. My guess is that Judhael will have taken it. Cecily, I don’t care about the silver.’

      ‘Truly?’

      ‘Truly. Judhael’s fighting a lost cause. A cask or two of silver won’t change that.’

      ‘So you…you really aren’t planning to hand Edmund over to the garrison commander?’

      Slowly Adam shook his head. He released the curl and watched it spring back into its natural shape. ‘As I said, he is welcome here if he is willing to swear fealty to me.’

      ‘In time he may.’ Cecily sighed.

      ‘Princess?’ He picked up the curl again, threaded it through his fingers.

      ‘I…I was talking to George Le Blanc while I looked at his hurts. He told me how you came to be captured…’

      ‘And?’

      ‘He says you lured the rebels up to the beacon with smoke signals. Why?’

      Adam shrugged, freed his hand from the strand of hair, and made to turn away. He did not want her to read what was in his heart. She was not ready. He steeled himself to face the fact that she might never be ready.

      ‘Wait, Adam,’ she said, catching his other arm and applying ointment to it. ‘Why would you lure them like that? Did you think that you and George alone could protect your interests in Wessex?’

      Her head remained downbent, she was entirely focused on his wrist, but something about her tone told him that her question was not an idle one. His answer was important to her. He tipped her chin up. A faint flush was staining her cheekbones. ‘Cecily, as I told Judhael in the clearing, I came for you.’

      A tiny crease appeared between her brows. ‘Yes, I remember that is what you said. But surely…? M-me? You put yourself in mortal danger with only one man at your side—for me?’

      ‘I came for you.’ Removing the pot from her, he put it on the washstand and slipped his hands round her waist. She would not refuse him. If he could not have her heart, there was comfort to be found in her body—much comfort. ‘You are the most important of my interests in Wessex,’ he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

      ‘I…I am?’

      She wasn’t fishing for compliments. She really didn’t believe him. That father of hers—to thrust a loving, lusty girl like Cecily into the clutches of that cold-hearted Prioress…

      ‘Certainly. I’d like to say I had a plan for winning you back, but I’d be lying.’ He shook his head, his voice husky as he brought her body next to him. ‘When I returned from Winchester and found you gone I thought you had betrayed me.’

      ‘You were angry,’ she said softly. Resting her cheek against his chest, she put her arms about him and loosed a storm of lust and longing in him. It was enough to make him forget the aches in his back and shoulders and ribs; enough to make him forget the swelling of his eye…

      He cleared his throat. ‘I was, but when we stumbled across Lufu I was obsessed by one thought—to get to you before Judhael treated you in the same way. I had no idea what I might do when I reached his camp. I just rushed in like a madman.’ He shook his head in self-deprecation. ‘Some strategist, huh?’ Her head shifted, and when she kissed his chest he nuzzled the top of her head.

      ‘I’m glad you did rush in,’ she said. ‘It brought home to Emma and Edmund that Judhael was turning into something…monstrous.’

      Gently, he raised her chin. ‘Am I monstrous in your eyes?’

      ‘You know you are not. I…I have grown very fond of you.’

      Fond? Disappointment engulfed him, but he strove to hide it. Would he always be the invader here? Would the true identity of her brother stand between them for ever? ‘That remark deserves a kiss,’ he said lightly. ‘I hope you like kissing ugly Bretons with black eyes.’

      Her lips curved. ‘I do if they go by the name of Adam Wymark.’

      ‘That’s lucky,’ he said, smiling as their lips met.

      It was a long kiss. Adam intended to keep it gentle, but her lips softened and parted, and her tongue met his almost eagerly, it seemed, and her body was warm against him, and her hands had somehow slipped under the waist of his braies and down over his buttocks, holding him to her while she pressed herself against him. A groan escaped him. She had no idea…When she moved like that he wanted to feel her breasts move against his bare flesh. He wanted…

      Breathless, he drew back and looked at the bed.

      She flushed and gave a shaky laugh. ‘Yes, it is late, isn’t it…?’

      Smiling, he manoeuvred her towards the bed, and began pulling out the pins that kept her veil in place. So far there had been no mention of the snuffing out of candles, which was promising. ‘It is late indeed. It is time for you to show me how fond you are.’

      She drew back, not meeting his eyes. ‘Adam, there is one thing…’

      ‘Mmm?’

      ‘A-about Philip.’

      Casting aside her veil, he froze. Yes! Tell me—tell me now.

      ‘He…he…’ Distancing herself from him, she wrung her hands. ‘Adam, you say I am important to you—’ her voice cracked ‘—but I have something to say to you that will truly anger you.’

      ‘I doubt that.’

      She twisted her head back and forth. ‘No, it will. You see, I have lied to you about Philip…’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘He…he’s my brother…’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘Not Gudrun’s son, but my brother—Wh…what did you say?’

      Adam captured her hands, brought them to his lips. ‘I know. I know it all. I guessed it some while ago.’ Her eyes were wide and dark, her expression puzzled.

      ‘And you’re not angry? You’re not planning to send him away or…?’

      ‘Kill him?’ Adam’s lips twisted. ‘I hope you’d know I’d not harm a baby.’

      Her fingers clung to his. ‘I do know that—yes, I do. You are a good man—how else could I love you? It…it’s just that—’

      His heart pounded and he gripped her by the shoulders. ‘Say that again.’

      She blinked. ‘What?’

      ‘The part about you loving me.’

      Shyly, her eyes met his. ‘I do love you. But I have already told you—’

      ‘You said fond.’ Throat dry, he swallowed, stumbling over the words. ‘Fondness is not love.’

      ‘I…I

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