Michelle Willingham - Warrior Of Fire

And yet, there was an empty bleakness in his eyes, like a haunted man. As if he didn’t enjoy killing, the way a warrior might. She didn’t know what to think of that.

Why had he returned to this place? What interest would a Norman soldier have in an abandoned abbey? She couldn’t understand it.

‘Do you want more to eat?’ he asked her.

She shook her head, recognising his desire to avoid speaking of the priests. So be it. Likely it was better if she didn’t know what had happened here.

‘I intend to leave tomorrow at dawn,’ she told him. And as far as she was concerned, she didn’t need his help—especially if he was looking for information she could not give.

‘It would be better to travel at nightfall,’ he countered. ‘It’s too easy for them to track you. They won’t be far away, and we would be unable to avoid them.’

We ? So he was still thinking of accompanying her. She regarded him with a frown, for she hadn’t agreed to that. ‘They are travelling towards Tara, and I am moving in the opposite direction.’ She wanted it clear that she didn’t need him to escort her. He could return to his men, if needed.

Raine evaded her searching gaze and answered, ‘The High King’s men have split up to search for you. If we do not wait and let them travel farther, then they will find us.’

Carice didn’t know why he was insisting on helping her, but it was time to be clear with him. ‘I would be grateful if you would take me to Laochre,’ she said, ‘but I cannot give you information about the kings of Éireann. I know nothing, and even if I did, I would not betray them.’ She eyed him sharply and added, ‘I can grant you a reward of silver for your assistance, but nothing more. And if you choose not to escort me there, I’ll go alone.’

Raine studied her, but his expression held a silent challenge. She didn’t know what to think of that, but she would not lower her eyes in surrender. Instead, she faced him down with her own strong will.

There was a faint hint of respect in his expression. ‘You won’t go alone.’ Though he didn’t acknowledge her offer of a reward, she suspected that he might still try to press her for knowledge.

‘Thank you.’ Yet despite his compromise, she sensed that the battle of wills was not over.

Raine gave a slight nod and commanded, ‘Rest now.’

She leaned back and huddled beneath the coverlet while he finished eating. Beneath the woollen blanket, her feet and hands were freezing. She tried to rub her hands to warm them, but they were numb from the time she’d spent in hiding.

There was no chance she would fall asleep in such discomfort. She managed to sit up, and swung her legs to the side of the bed, intending to go stand by the fire. But Raine stopped her. ‘What is it?’

‘I’m freezing.’ She hoped he might find her another blanket while she warmed herself at the hearth. Before she could get out of bed, Raine pressed her back down.

He reached for her hands and rubbed them between his palms. The heat of his skin felt so good, she closed her eyes, wishing for more. Then he bent down to her feet and did the same, massaging the frigid skin. She tried to stop herself from shivering but could not repress the instinct.

‘Do you want me to lie beside you for warmth?’ His offer meant no harm, but she questioned the wisdom of accepting his body against hers.

‘I don’t know.’ She met his gaze, uncertain of what he intended. This man unnerved her, and she worried about sleeping at his side.

Raine didn’t seem to care about her wariness. Instead, he stretched out beside her, pulling her body against his. He pulled his cloak over both of them and did the same with the blanket. His gesture was only meant to help her get warm, but against her nape, she could feel his breath. A sudden rush of awareness slid over her, bringing goosebumps to her skin.

He is not to be trusted, her mind warned. She knew that, even as she nestled closer to him. His presence was so dangerous to her good sense. Never before had she lain this close to a man. And especially not one who wanted her to act as a traitor.

She was fascinated by the contrast between them. He was muscular, a large man with a great deal of strength, whereas she was weak and softer. The hard planes of his body offered a shelter she welcomed. Even wrapped within the coverlet, she could feel the warmth of his arms around her. For a moment, she imagined that this was what it was like to lie with a husband.

A fragile twinge of regret caught her. At one time, she had dreamed of a life where she would be Lady of Carrickmeath with a husband and children. When her father had betrothed her to Rory Ó Connor, she’d been filled with terror and loathing. Brian had believed he was giving her a dream, not a nightmare.

But she felt no loathing beside Raine de Garenne. Instead, his embrace was welcoming, granting a solace that made her grateful. She had needed the warmth of his body, and he had offered it to her. Though she should feel guilty about resting beside him, she didn’t. Raine was a stranger to her, a man who might escort her to Laochre Castle, and then it was doubtful she would see him again.

She tried to close her eyes and find sleep, but the longer she remained in his arms, the more she grew aware of the heavy chain mail he wore. He could not possibly rest, wearing such armour.

‘You could...remove your armour if you want to sleep. It’s difficult in chain mail.’ She couldn’t imagine trying to sleep with the weight of the metal links pressing down.

Raine didn’t answer at first, but then he sat up, pushing back the coverlet before he walked towards the fire.

She never took her gaze from him as he turned to face her. Though he remained silent, she felt the censure in his stare. Out of courtesy, she closed her eyes. ‘I won’t look, I promise.’

‘Carice,’ he said quietly. ‘Would you prefer it if I left you to sleep alone?’ His stare held an intensity that made her uncertain of what he truly wanted. But it did seem that he was trying to determine whether his presence had made her uncomfortable. And that wasn’t it at all.

‘No,’ she answered. It made her feel safe to have him near. ‘I would rather have you stay. Unless...you do not wish to be near me.’

‘I will stay.’ His green eyes held her spellbound as he removed the leather corselet. ‘But trust that I will not harm you. If you want me to leave you alone, I will.’

He set aside the corselet and reached for the chain mail hauberk. Though she knew she shouldn’t watch, she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. His blond hair gleamed against the firelight, and he fixed his attention upon her as he removed the armour. Only a linen undertunic remained, but it was unlike those she had seen before. This one was worn, but made of a finer weave of cloth, like one a nobleman might wear. It hung open at his neck, and she spied angry, reddened flesh.

‘Are you hurt?’ She hadn’t realised it before. ‘Your skin looks as if it’s still healing.’

His expression tightened, and he paused a moment before lifting away the undertunic. His torso was rigid, resembling the honed body of an ancient god. There were scars of battle, but the reddish markings near his throat spread over one shoulder. He turned his back to her, and she saw that the skin was red and mottled, as if he had suffered from burns.

It hurt to look at the healed flesh, knowing how badly he must have suffered. ‘What happened to you?’

‘I was caught in the fire when this abbey burned. I nearly died.’ He still remained facing the hearth, not looking at her. ‘I saw the flames when my men were camped nearby,’ he said. ‘I alerted my commander, but he didn’t want to intervene. “It’s not our battle,” he told me.’ Raine rested his hands upon the stone wall, and the muscles in his back flexed. ‘I went there anyway, but I was too late to stop the raiders.’