He caught her hand with his and curled his fingers around her delicate bones. “You’re beautiful. If I were ever going to fall for a woman again—” He stopped himself short of making a fool of himself. He couldn’t even believe he’d said that much.
“I do nae need ye to try to soothe me,” Deirdre replied, her tone as stiff as her body. “I need ye to release me.”
Left with little choice but to comply, he did as she asked. She immediately scrambled off his lap to her knees, gained her feet, and then fell forward with a gasp. He rose in time to catch her, and in a deft move Rhys would have been proud of, he slipped his arm under her legs, scooped her up, and pressed her firmly against the safety of his chest once more.
“You hit your head pretty hard. As much as you hate it, I think you better let me hold you for a while.” Like maybe all night, but he wasn’t going to tell her that and give her a chance to protest. She might have a concussion, and he knew enough about concussions to know the person who might have one was supposed to be monitored.
“I’ll stay with her,” Mom offered.
“No. You need your sleep. You look dead tired.”
“Ye make the oddest choice of words,” Deirdre said.
“Your choices sound pretty bizarre to me, as well,” he assured her with a grin.
“Camp is ready,” Dermot announced, walking toward them with Grace trailing him. He held up what looked to be two freshly killed rabbits. “I captured dinner. Who wants to cook it?”
“Reikart is an excellent cook,” his mom said, giving him a pointed look. “Why don’t you put Deirdre down and—”
“No.” He clenched his teeth, hoping to stifle his irritation with his mom. He knew she was coming from a place of love and worry, but it was ridiculous. “You’re a fantastic cook. You do the honors.”
“Ye do nae need to keep holding me,” Deirdre said, squirming against him.
“I disagree.” He slid down the same tree he’d been sitting against moments before.
His mom huffed, Dermot laughed, Grace shook her head, and Deirdre glared at him. “Are ye always this obstinate?”
“I am,” he confirmed.“Are you?”
“I—” Deirdre burst into laughter, and she shook her head. “I am,” she said in a low voice. “My father used to say—” She stopped talking and nibbled on her lip. It was an innocent gesture but an alluring one all the same.
“What did your father say?” he asked gently.
“He used to say I’d eat a weak-willed man for supper, and that he needed to be certain to choose a strong-willed man for my future husband.”
Reikart’s aunt crouched down suddenly, looking at them. A contemplative look came to her face as she shifted her attention between Reikart and Deirdre. Then she glanced over her shoulder at Reikart’s mom, who was skinning the rabbits.
“What?” Mom grumbled.
“Did ye nae tell me that Reikart was the most stubborn and strong-willed of all yer children?”
Wonderful.He’d inherited a thirteenth-century matchmaking aunt.
“Bite yer tongue, Grace,” his mom growled to Reikart’s relief.
“It seems to me—”
“That’s enough, Aunt Grace,” Reikart said. Deirdre’s increasing stiffness told him she was as uncomfortable—or maybe more so—than he was.
His aunt gave a little chuckle, then rose and went back to her work on the fire. “So,” Reikart said, hoping to fill the awkward silence, “we should probably make a plan for when and if we have to go to the English court.”
Deirdre nodded, her fingers drumming against his shoulder. He could tell by the concentrated look on her face that she was lost in thought and likely had no idea she was tapping him. The motion paused suddenly, and she smiled. “Well, Algien will assume I escaped Lochlavine. I think it best if ye pretend to be one of my brother’s personal guards.”
“He’ll need to work on his accent,” Dermot said, stoking the fire that he and Grace had worked to build. Bright flame crackled to life, filling the shadows around them with light and heating the air immediately. A welcome smoky scent swirled in the air as Reikart thought about what his uncle had said.
“Do ye think I can pull it off?” Reikart asked, attempting an accent for the first time.
Everyone around him laughed, but it was Deirdre’s throaty chuckle that caught his attention. Everything about the woman was sexy, which was odd as hell given her dress covered her from head to foot, but it was that—her being covered everywhere—that was so appealing and intriguing. It made him wonder what her skin looked like—her legs, her bare arms and shoulders. He hadn’t wondered about a woman once since—He stopped the thought cold.
