Catherine Archer - Winter's Bride

She sighed, the heavy fall of her raven-black hair spilling forward over her slight shoulders to pool about her on the bed. “Such as?”

Tristan watched with an unexpected pang in his chest. He had so loved the way that hair spilled across his body when she kissed him…

He gave himself a mental shake. It had been a mistake to bring her here to Molson, where they had been together. He would never even have met the young maiden had he not, when visiting his own lands, decided to attend the local fair on a whim. From the moment their eyes had met across the greensward, Tristan had cared not what side of the war her family might be on, nor his own. Yet he had been a fool to forget all in her eyes. He must remember that that time was no more, must force himself to concentrate on how she had hurt him in allowing him to think her dead, how she had betrayed her own babe.

His eyes narrowed on hers as he answered her question. “Such as why you refuse to admit that you know me even now that we are alone here. It can serve no purpose. There is no one to hear.”

She turned away from him then and shoved the tangled blankets from her legs, as if she had decided he were not worthy of her continued consideration. Lily looked about the dimly lit room. His gaze followed hers over the heavy brocade draperies, the rich dark furnishings.

She sighed and ran a trembling hand through the hair at her temple. As when he had seen her on the stairs the previous night, this sign of weakness stirred his compassion for some reason.

“Well?” he demanded, his own frustration with himself making his voice gruff.

She looked at him then, her brow raised high. Her expression told him clearly that she had lost patience with him. “I tell you, my lord, I am exhausted. There was very little rest to be had upon your horse, and I had been traveling the whole of yesterday. If you insist that there are things that must be discussed between us, I must also insist that I rest first. I can make no sense of any of it at the moment.”

He felt an unexpected and unwelcome sense of admiration for her bravado. Here was a hint of the Lily he had once known. He had admired her spirit from the beginning.

Perhaps that was why it bothered him so much to see the weakness she tried to hide. That weakness only served to further illustrate how much had changed, how much she had changed.

Yet he could not bring himself to insist that, before she rested, she stand up to the weight of what she had done. What harm could it do to allow her to sleep first?

He shrugged. “Then sleep, if that is your wish.” He indicated the bed upon which she half lay.

She looked at him with a momentary relief quickly masked by hauteur.

Smiling benignly, Tristan sat down on the end of the bed and began to remove his own boots. He was somewhat tired himself. It had been a long night, and it would do no harm to have all his wits about him when he faced her with her perfidy.

When Tristan swung around to lie down on the bed, Lily was still watching him. Her eyes became rounder as she saw his intent. “You do not mean to sleep here?”

His smile widened with unconcealed amusement. “I certainly do. You do not think I would go and leave you here alone so you can escape?”

She bit her lower lip. Ah, he thought, so she had been contemplating just such a move. Well, it would do her no good. Even though the way to her own father’s keep from Molson was well-known to her, she was completely in Tristan’s power until he chose for it to be otherwise.

Casually he got up and went to the door. Fixing his gaze upon her own, he turned the key in the lock, then with deliberate care placed the key in the waistband of his leggings.

Her gray eyes narrowed, and she leaped up from the bed. “I will not sleep in this bed with you. I wouldst rather lie upon the floor.” With that she plopped down upon the gold-and-red-patterned carpet.

He frowned. Lord, but she was obstinate, just as in the old days. Then her obstinacy had shown itself in her desire to see him in spite of her parents’ wishes.

Even as another shaft of regret passed through him, tightening his throat, Tristan strode across the room and scooped her up in his arms. Her eyes grew rounder still as she gasped and tried to struggle.

Ignoring her efforts, he tossed her onto the bed and stood staring down at her for a very long time, during which she did her utmost to glare back at him. But once again he could see her fatigue in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the shallowness of her breathing.

Without another word, he turned his back on her and went to the large overstuffed chair beside the empty hearth. Tristan settled back and closed his eyes, though he was aware of her continued scrutiny for quite some time. Only when he heard her lie back upon the bed and sigh with weariness was he able to even attempt to seek his own rest.

It was some time before he was able to sleep even then.

Lily woke abruptly and to the full knowledge of everything that had transpired the previous night. She had, in fact, slept very little during the hours since she had refused to continue the confrontation with the madman who had abducted her.

A very handsome madman, came an unexpected voice inside her, as a rush of heat flamed her cheeks. Even in the vehemence of anger, those oddly compelling blue eyes of his had had the power to capture and hold her own.

As they had from the first moment, when she had seen him on the stairs at the inn.

Quickly she tossed this thought aside, for it was not comforting in any way. Lily knew she must think about what she was to do now. She certainly could not allow the madman, no matter how compelling, to confuse her. No matter how appealing he was to the eyes, with that dark hair, those strongly sculpted features and intense blue eyes…

From whence had come such thoughts? she asked herself in exasperation.

Lily could not forget the strength of his arms as he carried her up the stairs to this very chamber. And he had left her to sleep in the bed alone. But then, he had had no right to bring her here against her will at the onset.

It had been some time after he settled himself in the large chair near the window that she was able to actually believe that he meant to leave her to her rest. The eventual slowing of his breathing had finally convinced her.

Lily found herself holding her own breath as her attention centered on him now.

A sudden prickling of awareness at her nape told her that he was awake. Unbelievably, she could feel the very force of his presence in the air. Lily lay very still, unwilling to face him as yet, wishing to give herself more time to think.

He must have been as alert to her as she to him, for he spoke from the other side of the chamber. “Well, are you ready to continue our discussion?” There was no mistaking the disdain and anger in his voice. The hours that had passed had done nothing to change his demeanor.

Lily took a deep breath and let it out in a rush as she sat up, quickly pulling the silken coverlet up to cover herself when she saw how much of her was exposed by the sheer fabric of her nightgown. She replied with equal disdain. “Only if you are now ready to come to your senses and allow me to leave.” She could not be blind to the fact that he was indeed even more handsome than her eyes had told her in the dim light of their previous encounter. Those blue eyes of his were narrowed under two eyebrows that were dark as sable, as was the thick thatch of wavy hair that fell across his forehead.

As she watched, he reached up and raked it back with obvious frustration. He rose and strode toward her with the grace and menace of a stalking tiger she had once seen in an illustrated book. When he reached the bed he leaned over her. “It should not surprise me in the least that you are attempting to go back on your word.”