“Yes. It gets chilly in here at night.”
Yawning, he rises and walks to the hearth, piles some split logs, and kneels to set the kindling ablaze. The flames from the straw and finely shaved wood lick up around the logs until they too catch, cracking and popping. They throw long shadows around the room.
When he sits down I scoot closer, my knees drawn to my chest, skirts hanging over my feet.
“You never had feelings for this other girl,” I ask.
“No, not for her.”
“Why?”
“She was very beautiful, but there is more to attraction than beauty. She did not rise into the role of princess, she wished to drag it down to herself. None of her predecessors demanded so many jewels and dresses as she did, and my father indulged her.”
“Liking fine things doesn’t make someone a bad person.”
“It doesn’t make them a good person, either. Sometimes, it can be too much. I look around at all this, and do you know what I think? I don’t own it, it owns me.”
“I’ve heard that before. Would you ever give it up?”
“I can’t let anyone else have it. The burden is mine to bear. I would lay it down for a time, though. When my father ruled, my mother and I would travel the land with my grandfather. It was called a royal progress. At the end of each year we would settle for a month or so in a cabin in the north, at the feet of the mountains. It was always late, and the garden outside made the whole house smell of herbs. My grandfather taught me to fish in those streams. Have you ever gone fishing?”
“Yes,” I sigh. “When I was young and my brother was three or four years old, my father took us to Canada, to a lodge in Quebec. It’s not there anymore now, they tore it all down. I caught a fish.”
“Oh?”
“A little perch or something. Nothing impressive.”
“All children are impressed by their first fish.”
“We put it back in the water. I guess it’s kind of cruel to put a hook through an animal’s mouth like that, but…” I shrug. “I loved that trip. I wanted to go again so badly but we never did. I loved that part about the missionary work, sleeping in tents, even the prepared meals. I like camping and the outdoors.”
I shift closer to him, and without a word he slips his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in, again sniffing at my hair. He breathes deep.
“You smell earthy,” he murmurs. “Like iron and tilled soil. A good smell.”
I snort. “Thanks, you really know how to flatter a girl.”
“I want you.”
As my hand slides down his stomach and comes to rest on his erection, I sigh. “I can tell.”
As I trace the length of him through his clothes with my finger, I feel him harden more and feel a tingle between my legs. He’s, ah, impressive.
“You’re not the first guy that wanted me.”
“Or the first that has had you.”
I tense. “Careful. Is that a problem? Where I come from it isn’t.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, it’s not exactly true. I was… We never… I mean, we fooled around, but that was it. I…” I shrug. “Okay, this is weird, but my mother told me, in detail, how she slept around before she married my dad and told me that tying herself down to one man was a mistake. She kept pushing me to, I don’t know, sow my wild oats or whatever. I don’t know if it was to defy her or just who I am, but I wanted it to be special. I was waiting for my wedding night. We did other stuff. Pretty much all the other stuff. Just not that.”
He runs his fingers through my hair. They graze my scalp and leave trails of lightning in their path.
“Do you wish to wait?”
“I don’t know.” I close my eyes. “Things are different. I have more perspective. I almost died. That choice was almost taken away from me. I want it to be mine again.”
“It is yours. I will never hurt you, Penny. I will never descend to the level of those animals.”
I snicker. “You owe me three chopped-off hands already.”
My stomach quivers and my chest flutters as he pulls me onto his lap. I shift and wriggle my butt, feeling his cock dig against me through his clothes, even my skirts. His hands glide reverently across my body over the fabric of my dress, one resting on my hip, the other on my ass.
He squeezes and I jerk and wriggle in his lap and tuck up against him. He smells good, too. Like leather and trees.
“I would never descend to the level of an animal who hurts women.”
“Stop it,” I whisper, digging my fingers into his chest. I pop one of the buttons on his shirt and slip my hand inside, feeling his warm skin. “Don’t talk like that. It scares me. I want the man who carried me to safety, not the man who tore apart the people who attacked me.”
“Why do you feel such concern for them?”
“They’re people, too,” I sigh. “I don’t know. I’m tired, don’t make me think about things like that. I don’t like thinking about you killing people. I want you to stop.”