Page 30 of An Outlaw’s Desire

Making a mental note to inquire about the Christmastime mystery, Blythe pushed the door closed with her foot. She set the tray on the trestle table, and her gaze shifted to the bed. Would she regret trusting the man hiding underneath? Mayhap she’d made a grave mistake by not sounding the alarm. But, guards walked the keep’s upper corridors, and if at any time she feared for her safety, she’d shout and bring them to her.

She must hear what the intruder had to say. When he’d pinned her against him a short while ago, familiarity—knowledge she could only define as the most primitive of instincts—had washed through her and pooled in her belly. Pitt, her heart had insisted, even more fervently than at the stone circle.

Excitement tingled along her spine as she faced the bed. “You can come out now.”

Even before she’d finished speaking, fabric rustled. Metal scraped on the floorboards. The man rose and approached her.

He halted and stared down at her, as though indulging in a though study of her features. As she returned his gaze, heat trailed through her; acknowledgment of the bold, masculine power flowing from him and drawing her to him.

“Tell me your name,” she whispered. The words emerged a plea.

A faint smile touched his mouth. A memory of Pitt flashed in her mind; of him rising from a deep bow to hand over her cloak pin.

“What does your heart tell you, milady?”

Blythe swallowed hard. “I want to believe….”

“Aye?” Hunger had roughened his voice.

His gaze fixed on her lips. Her skin tingled with awareness and anticipation, even as caution ran through her. He must prove, beyond doubt, he was Pitt. “Are you the man I knew years ago?” How she hated the hitch in her voice.

His gaze softened slightly. “I am, Blythe.”

Her heart soared. Oh, how she wanted to believe him. She yearned to throw herself into his arms and kiss him, over and over.

But, him knowing her name wasn’t enough proof. He could have learned her identity from a servant.

“I would like to believe you,” she said.

“I know. I see that in your eyes.”

She swallowed hard. What else had she unknowingly given away?

His leather glove whispered against her skin as he lightly traced her cheekbone and tucked hair behind her ear. “Years ago,” he said quietly, “you meant everything to me.”

Anguish mingled with her excitement. She stepped back, breaking the contact between them. Disappointment touched his face before his arm lowered to his side.

“How old were you, when we were together?” she asked.

“Fifteen.”

“Why were you at the castle years ago?”

“I served as his lordship’s squire.”

Correct answers, but still more details he could have gotten from others.

“Our first kiss?”

His slow grin revealed his straight, white teeth. “Amongst the apple trees.”

Hope flickered, but they hadn’t been the only ones in the orchard that afternoon.

“My favorite vegetable is cabbage. True?”

Shaking his head, he chuckled. “You hate cabbage, because once, when you were ill, ’twas all you were able to keep down.”

’Twould be difficult for someone who didn’t know her well to have that rather personal knowledge. Still….