Page 31 of An Outlaw’s Desire

“The man I knew would not surprise a lady in her bedchamber.”

The warmth in his eyes vanished. “I am the man you knew.”

“He believed in chivalry and honor. He always did what was right.” Words, bound by grief and regret, tangled up inside her.

Remorse etched his features. “The years have changed me.”

“If you really are the man I knew, tell me of the day I departed Millenstowe Keep.”

“’Tis a day I will never forget.” His tone roughened. “The thought of losing you threatened to destroy me. Yet, I also did not want to miss the chance to see you one final time. I found every reason that morn to be the bailey; to be close enough to hear your voice, to see your hair shimmer in the sunlight, to watch you, with the elegance of a dancer, step into the carriage.”

She blinked hard, fighting tears.

“I used to leave little gifts for you: on your chair, in your coin purse, even under your hairpins in your chamber.”

He had. Oh, but he had.

“My last gift…. I left a note on the seat of the carriage. I put it under a bit of stone, taken from the ancient place where we’d kissed.”

Aye.

“I said I loved you. That was—still is—the truth.”

“Oh, Pitt,” she whispered.

A breath rushed from him, as though he’d been waiting for her to say his name.

He swept her into his arms.

Every moment that he’d justified his identity to her, Pitt had yearned to pull her into his embrace and kiss her—for a kiss would reveal greater truths than his words ever could.

She might be older than the maiden of his memories, but she was no less lovely or extraordinary. With her cheeks flushed and her hair spilling about her shoulders, she had a wildness about her that coaxed his thoughts back to stolen moments together in the past; to the desire that had consumed them but because of their circumstances, they hadn’t been able to quench.

That desire burned in him now like a hot, bright fire.

With her head tucked under his chin, he held her close. Perfect. How many times through the years had he wished he could hold her again? He fought the intense yearning to draw back, tilt up her face, and press his lips to hers.

Trust—not a kiss—was what he needed most from her now.

He had to be sure she wouldn’t sound the alarm.

Pitt held her for a long moment, savoring her nearness. Then, with a muffled sigh, she resisted his embrace. As he loosened his hold, she brushed at her eyes then curled her fingers into his cloak, over his heart. “Pitt.”

“Mmm?”

“Why are you here?”

Hellfire.

How best to answer her? He’d rather not lie. “I would like to tell you,” he finally said, “but I cannot.”

Her puzzled gaze met his. “Why not?”

He wished he could tell her all. Years ago, they’d not kept secrets from one another; he’d found a kind of freedom in being able to confide everything to her. His life, though, was much different now. “’Tis not allowed.”

“By whom? Someone to whom you owe loyalty?”

Not exactly, but ’twas as sound an answer as any. “Aye.”