This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
~ Paul Laurence Dunbar, “We Wear the Mask”
Deirdre awoke to whispers in her ear. The noise startled her, and her eyes flew open to the dawn of a new day. When warm breath blew on her neck and in her ear once more, she realized it was not someone whispering, but someone breathing very near. That’s when she felt the solid body molded to her backside. Her heart started to thunder as she glanced ever so slowly over her shoulder.
“He sleeps like the dead. Always has.”
The quiet words startled her, and she jerked, expecting Reikart to wake up, but his mother, who’d been looming over Deirdre, crouched in front of her. Grace followed right away. The sisters shared a secret look and nodded, as if they had decided something, and this, finding Reikart twined around Deirdre, confirmed it. But then Shona shocked Deirdre by extending a genuinely warm smile. It was not the greeting she had been expecting from Reikart’s mother this morning, considering the woman had been fairly hostile toward Deirdre last night.
“Yer whispers with my son carried on the wind,” Shona said, exchanging yet another look with Grace.
Deirdre frowned, the haziness of sleep still blanketing her mind, as well as being distracted by the body—the very male, well-shaped body—pressed against her. “Our whispers?” she asked in, well, a whisper. As improper as it was to be lying tangled up in Reikart’s arms, she was loath to wake him. Time travel had to be tiring, yet he had insisted on watching over her last night for signs of that ailment called a concussion. Given the stubborn nature she’d witnessed in the man so far, she would not find it hard to believe if he’d stayed awake long after she’d succumbed to sleep.
Shona leaned forward and down onto her knees. Her face came right in front of Deirdre’s. “Yer talk about bedding each other.”
“What? Nay,” Deirdre hissed low, mortified. “Ye misheard us.”
“I heard ye perfectly,” Shona said. “We were not that far away. Now extract yourself from my son’s arms and come speak with us. Dermot’s asleep, too.”
Deirdre nodded, feeling there was no other choice, and after a few minutes of contorting herself every which way to slide out of Reikart’s arms, she managed to move his leg off her own and his arm off her waist without rousing the deadly wolf. That’s what he was—a deadly, charming wolf. She set one hand on the cool, damp grass to push up to a sitting position, but before she could, he settled his palm over her breast and tugged her body back into the protective mold of his.
A quiver surged through her veins, her skin tingling under the warmth of his caress. Her gaze flew to his mother and aunt who had just turned away. She moved his hand and scooted out of his reach, gained her feet, and stared down at him.
She could still feel his touch imprinted on her mind and on her body. The trembling in her veins moved to her limbs, making her knees feel weak, but she locked them in place. A dull ache unfurled in her belly, and she stifled her gasp of realization by biting hard on her lip. She was attracted to this man who would, if everything went his way, not even be in her time soon.
“Are ye going to stand there staring at Reikart all morning, or are ye going to join us?” Shona asked.
Deirdre snatched her gaze away from Reikart’s long, powerful form and met his mother’s amused expression. Something had changed from last night to this morning in relation to how Shona felt about her, but Deirdre was not going to comment and ruin it. She’d much rather be liked than hated, though she was curious what had brought about this shift.
Not long later, the three women headed to a stream so they could freshen themselves. As she was tying her skirt in knots to wade into the water without drenching the material, Shona and Grace came to stand on either side of her. She glanced between the sisters, suspecting she might be getting the answer as to why Shona was being kinder in the light of day.
“He likes you,” Shona said, staring at Deirdre expectantly.
Deirdre poked a toe in the freezing water to stall responding. She didn’t yet knowhowto respond. “I assume ye mean yer son—” it seemed so impossible “—likes me?” she asked, taking her foot out of the trickling stream.
Shona nodded.
“As one likes a friend,” Deirdre said slowly, unsure of Shona’s intent with this conversation.
Shona exchanged a glance with her sister. “As in, he is attracted to ye—”
“But it’s clear he does nae want to be,” Grace finished. “’Tis encouraging.” She nodded, as did Shona, and then they both grinned.
“I did nae think so at first,” Shona continued, to which Deirdre could do no more than gape openmouthed. She was still stuck on the fact that Reikart’s mother and aunt thought he was attracted to her. Toher. She imagined in his time the women all wanted to wed him; certainly it sounded as if they’d been more than willing to bed him. Not surprising, she supposed. He had a dark ruggedness that was alluring, a vital power that comforted, and his eyes, those blue eyes, held kindness and secrets that made him intriguing and likeable.
“Ye may have noticed I was hostile toward ye yesterday,” Shona said, interrupting Deirdre’s thoughts.
Deirdre snorted at that statement. “I’d have to be deaf and blind nae to have noticed, but I assumed ye were skeptical of my honor and angry at me for giving ye the note and ruining yer life…”
Shona surprised Deirdre by grasping her hand. “Ye did not ruin my life. I would have never met my husband and had my sons if it wasn’t for ye choosing me to take that note to the king.” Deirdre let out a relieved breath. One less person disliking her was welcome news. “I noticed Reikart’s protectiveness of you right away, and it scared me.”
Deirdre frowned. “He made a promise to my sister. That’s the only reason he feels protective.”
“Maybe,” Shona said, though she sounded skeptical, “but I—”
