Her bodice loosened, and he leaned forward and put his mouth at her ear. “Whatever you do, don’t let them see your face.”
Let who see her face? She couldn’t see anything, which only made his closeness overwhelming. Then Sage understood. They needed an excuse to be hiding, and it had to look like they’d been here for a while. This act couldn’t be one-sided, though—she had to do something. It was just so hard to think with his hands working her bodice open more. She fumbled with the ties on his vest, but they weren’t coming loose, so she reached around to his back and untucked his shirt. Ash pulled her sleeve off her shoulder and dragged his lips across her collarbone and up her neck, leaving a strange trail of icy fire on her skin. His hand slipped between her bodice and thin linen shift—under where his hand had been when he helped her off the horse, right where she tucked her note yesterday.…
Sage had one hand under his shirt and halfway up his back, unsettlingly aware of the solid muscles at her fingertips. Heat from his breath burned her skin as his right hand pulled her hood off. Ash buried his nose in the loose hair at the back of her neck, inhaling slowly and deliberately. It seemed an odd thing to do. She turned her face into his collar. He smelled infinitely better—like soap with essence of evergreen … clean linen … leather … and something indefinable that left her only wanting to breathe more deeply.
Ash froze and then leaned back a little, brushing his eyelashes across her cheek as he brought his mouth to hover over hers.
“Sage,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Yes.
The door opened, throwing blinding light across her face. She shrieked, and Ash shielded her with his body. A guard with the torch in his hand stood motionless for a second before bursting into riotous laughter. His companion peered around the door frame and joined him. Sage pushed her skirt down and attempted to pull her bodice back together, aware Ash was blocking her face from their view as he hitched his sagging breeches higher.
“Get out of here, you two,” said the man with the torch. He stepped back and threw the door wider. Ash advanced on them so Sage could slip out behind him, and she grabbed her basket, keeping her face down and away. “Be glad we’re in a hurry, boy, or we might’ve taken a turn, too.”
She saw Ash’s fists clench at the guard’s taunt, but rather than swing at him, to Sage’s relief he reached down to snatch up the hair cover she’d dropped. Her outer dress shifted with her steps, and she grabbed at the bodice to keep it from opening farther as she stumbled to the door and leaned against it. Panic seized her throat as the soldier grabbed Ash’s arm and leaned to his ear.
“You tell your captain if any of you boys is caught like this again, he’ll hear about it from Captain Geddes.” The man shoved Ash at her. “Now run, boy.”
Ash’s hand was on her back, propelling her out, as the sound of laughter echoed out the door. She tripped on a clump of dirt and barely managed to stay upright. “In here,” Ash whispered, guiding her to the tiny chapel at the base of the tower he’d sat against earlier.
Sage collapsed on the bench inside as Ash closed the door and pressed an eye to a crack in the boards. She hardly dared to breathe as he watched the courtyard for several seconds. At last he leaned back. “I think we’re good. No one’s out there.”
With shaking hands, Sage hiked her stockings back over her knees, then stood and smoothed her skirt. Ash was barely a foot away, retucking his shirt. Her heart pounded so loudly she felt he must be able to hear it. “We have to tell Captain Quinn right away,” she said in a hushed and hurried voice.
“I’ll go as soon as…” Ash fumbled with his belt in the light coming through the dirty stained-glass window. When he’d finally found the catch he was looking for, he straightened and smoothed his rumpled hair. Sage suddenly found herself wanting to feel it in her own fingers. Cheeks flaming, she ducked her head to focus on straightening and retying her bodice.
Ash tugged her left sleeve back over her shoulder, startling her enough that she looked up into his shadowed face. “I have to go,” he said softly. “But you should take a few minutes to fix your hair; it’s a real mess. And your face is all flushed.”
“Maybe I’m just not practiced in these sorts of things.” She jerked away from the hand that lingered on her shoulder. In the last two days, she’d allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to be kissed—and by him—but had it all been for show back there? Had she been too eager to play the part in what was only an act for him? Her eyes burned with what she was afraid would become tears.
For a long moment, Ash said nothing. Then he whispered, “Neither am I.”
He took a half step forward. With the bench pressing her knees from behind, Sage couldn’t back away without falling. His vest brushed against her now-motionless hands, and she stared at them in confusion. What were they supposed to be doing? Ash was so close she could feel him breathing. She wanted to see his face but couldn’t force her eyes higher than his collarbone. Instead she concentrated on the faint pulse visible at the base of his throat. His neck muscles flexed as he swallowed.
His next words were forced out like a confession. “If I was any good at it, it was only because I’ve imagined it so often.”
Sage suddenly had to remind herself to breathe.
With the determination of having made a difficult decision, Ash reached up and tilted her chin higher. In the same movement, he slipped his left arm around her waist, drawing her to him. Their eyes met for a split second; she barely had time to realize what was happening as his face bent down to her own.
At first Sage trembled so badly she couldn’t react. His lips pressed against hers, and she tried to yield, tried to respond in a way that would tell him what she wanted, but she didn’t know how. Ash’s confidence wavered against her lukewarm response, and he drew back. Sage nearly panicked. It couldn’t end like that. She leaned into him, sliding her hands up to grasp the open collar of his shirt. Don’t stop.
Their lips met again, and this time he was startled, but only for a moment. Then he pulled her closer, raising her onto her tiptoes. She closed her eyes as his fingers drifted up her jawline to bury themselves in her hair.