Page 22 of An Outlaw’s Desire

“You saved my life.

Again, he didn’t respond. Mayhap he was the gallant sort who became uncomfortable when others praised his good deeds. But, she wanted him to know how very grateful she was.

She slowly drew back, while his arm slid down to rest against her hip. Determined to look him in the eye, she glanced at him…and froze.

He wasn’t Harlow.

Or Galven.

Shock raced through her as she stared into a face she didn’t immediately recognize. His hood had fallen back from his head of dark hair, and shadows deepened the strong lines of his cheekbones, the hard line of his jaw, and the slight curve of his mouth. His eyes…. They commanded her full attention. His gaze pierced with intelligence, arrogance, and interest that made her feel more than a little vulnerable.

His stare—somehow—was familiar.

She scrambled back, kicking up snow.

His gaze never leaving her, he brushed off his garments and rose to a crouch.

“You are not one of the guards I spoke with earlier.”

Again, he didn’t speak, although his eyes narrowed slightly.

“I do not recognize you.” What a ridiculous thing to say. Since she was a guest at Millenstowe Keep, she couldn’t possibly know all of the folk who lived and worked there. Still, she’d not cower before him. “Who are you?”

“A man who wished to help.”

His voice seemed somewhat familiar, too.

Pitt, her heart said.

Cannot be, her head insisted. Your thoughts are confused because of your recent Christmas wish.

The man had the broad-shouldered build of a knight or man-at-arms. Most likely he belonged to Lord Montgomery’s garrison. She might have spoken to him when she’d arrived at the fortress. “Are you from the keep?”

“I have called the castle home.”

His careful words suggested he’d once lived there but didn’t any longer.

“Are you a friend of the men on duty here tonight?” Where were they? Surely they’d have heard her shriek.

“I am not friends with tonight’s guards,” the man said.

He clearly didn’t want to divulge much to her. Misgiving trailed through her, but she fought the impulse to bolt. She needed to reclaim her knife. Moreover, she might be wise to find out what he was doing at the stone circle.

“I’m guessing you’re from the town, then,” she said.

He shrugged.

Shivering on a gust of wind, she frowned. “Does that mean you are, or you are not?”

He studied her as though deciding what to do with her.

Should she try and flee? She doubted she could outrun him in the snow.

“The guards. Where are they?”

The man slowly reached out and picked up her dagger from the snow. Oh, mercy. Now he had her only weapon.

Her pulse quickened with alarm. “I asked—”