“Nor do I,” she admitted, and she followed that with, “Ourroom?”
Rhys’s gaze came to hers. “Yes, I’m sorry. There was only one room left, and since the man thought you were my wife—he heard me say so to Dermot—he offered it to us. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
She nodded. “How did ye pay for the room?” she asked, following Rhys’s lead and rising. “And the cloak, and yer new clothing?” She ran a hand over the fur once more.
“The baron’s ring,” he said with a wink. She laughed at that, glad to be rid of it. “We’ve enough money left to get some horses, meals, and more lodgings should we need them. The ring was apparently worth a lot.” He met her eyes. “You’re sure you don’t mind selling it? I can always go back and give my ring instead.”
“Nay,” she said. “That ring meant nothing to me. I’d rather wear a piece of string around my finger from a man I love than an expensive ring from a man I do nae care for.”
He grinned at that. “I like the way you think, Maggie.”
Enough to stay?
She clenched her jaw on the question that had popped into her head. She had to stop this. He was not going to stay.
“Rhys,” she said, falling into step beside him. He took her hand and guided her through the common room, down a passage, and to the stairs that led to the lodgings above. “What will ye do once ye find yer mother?”
He led Maggie all the way up the narrow, creaky steps before he answered. At the top of the staircase, he turned to her. “I was going to go immediately back to my time if it’s possible. My dad is in a coma, and the doctor said it might help bring him back to have those he loved beside him and talking to him.”
“A coma?” she asked.
“The deep sleep of sorts I told you about the night we met,” Rhys explained. “And Dad loves Mom with all his heart.”
She wanted to be loved that way, but she would not blurt out the desire. Yet, though she had not said a word, Rhys’s gaze captured hers and seemed to probe to her very soul.
“When I was fourteen,” he said, his voice low and halting at first, “my mom got really sick. We thought she might die. One night in the hospital—that’s a place sick people are taken care of in my time—my dad told me that if my mom didn’t live, he didn’t want to live, either.”
“Oh…” Her breath caught at how much his father must love his mother to feel that way and how horrible Rhys must have felt to hear that his dad would rather leave him than live without his wife. “Rhys,” she murmured, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her cheek against his chest. He let her in immediately, wrapping her up in his arms as if she was the one in need of comfort.
God above, her heart opened a little more to him. His heartbeat thudded in her ear, and she knew sharing this private memory was very hard for him. She was inexplicably glad that he had chosen to share it with her.
He pressed his forehead gently to the top of her head, and his hands stroked deliciously up and down her back. His warmth seeped into her, and as they stood there, Maggie had a sudden wish that time would stand still. Rhys let out a long, slow breath, as if relinquishing something he’d held inside for a long time. “I’ve never been close to a woman, Maggie, not really.” She stood very still, afraid if she moved he’d not continue. “The truth is, I didn’t want to be, not after my mom got sick and I saw the way loving a woman could leave a man so vulnerable. I—” He stopped talking and drew away from her. Disappointment flooded her, but when their gazes met and he reached up to run a finger over her cheekbone, hope resurfaced, along with a shiver of anticipation. “I didn’t want to be vulnerable.”
Silence stretched, and she feared he would not say more, that this may be their one moment in time to grasp whatever it was between them. Gathering all her courage, she asked, “And now?”
He cupped her face, and even in the dark passage, she could see the tenderness of his expression. A bitter sweetness flooded her. Whatever was happening, however wonderful it was, it could not last. And she accepted that. How could she not?
“I’ve found myself asking if I could stay here,” he said, low and solemn.
Her heart skipped a million beats, and her breath caught somewhere between hope and anticipation. “Do ye have an answer?”
The pained look that settled on his face told her what he had yet to say in words. It felt as if her heart was cracking in two. “I don’t think I can, Maggie,” he said, confirming her fears and amplifying that splintering feeling in her chest. “As much as I may want to, my dad needs me. My brothers need me.”
Sheneeded him, which was ludicrous. How could she need someone she had known for such a short time? Devil take it. He had shown her how a man could be, the possibility of what she could feel. And now he was going to take the chance away. She clenched her jaw on saying anything that would make it worse for him—maybe for both of them.
“If I only had myself to think about…” he said, trailing off.
“What if ye can nae get back?” she asked, shamed that deep in her heart there was a small part of her that hoped he could not, despite the fact that he felt he had to go back, wanted to go back.
“Then that would change things for me,” he said quietly. “I’d want to court you, as the men of your time are supposed to.” The pleasure his confession brought her was pure and explosive. And then she recalled it likely would never be.
“Go on,” she urged him. Hearing what he would do was akin to asking to be tortured since it was unlikely to ever come to pass, yet she wanted to hear. Desperately.
He ran his hand down her cheek ever so gently and hooked a finger under her chin. “I’d take you for walks to look at the stars and for rides in the woods. We’d spend hours tromping through the snow, and—Do you like to dance?”
She nodded, her heart thudding at what he’d told her so far.
“I’d dance with you for hours, relishing in the simplicity of your hand in mine.”
