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I smacked him across the chest with the papers. Hard. And, drat the man. Why was I tempted to pat him there while I was at it?
“No, I do not want to try,” I growled.
But boy, was that library getting warm. And, oops — my thoughts were drifting into sultry territory again, which I blamed on my animal side. On the other hand, that was hard to avoid, what with Tuck so comfortably close and that voice in the back of my mind.
You can trust him. You must trust him.
I fantasized about him slipping his arms around my waist. Leaning in slowly. Planting a kiss on my neck, then another lower. And lower…
I gulped and waved the papers in the air. “I think your friend might have missed his calling.”
“Maybe he did,” Tuck rumbled, moving away stiffly. “Cyril, I mean.”
I turned — slowly — giving myself plenty of time to compose myself. Giving him time too, because that poke against my hip might not have been the key in his pocket.
“Here.” I handed the papers over, then stepped back. “Tell Cyril his secret is safe with me.”
His eyes sparkled, assuring me my secrets were safe too.
Then I caught myself. What had I been thinking, letting down my guard around him?
“Wait. Don’t tell Cyril. Don’t tell anyone. Do you understand?” I touched his arm. “No one can know I’m here. Please.”
Every word I uttered transformed Tuck from lonely monk to bristling warrior, ready to rush off on a crusade to protect my virtue.
“No one will know.” His voice was low, gravelly. Dangerous, even, as if he was ready to slay my enemies. And Lord knew I had a long list of those. One especially.
I nodded my thanks. “Good night, Tuck.”
He bit his lip at the not too subtle hint. “Good night, Lady…”
I shook my head slightly. Regretfully, because part of me desperately wanted him to know who I was. What I was like. Why I was hiding in a monastery…
“Good night,” I said with a tone of finality.
His lips curled in a defeated little smile, and he backed toward the door. “Good night. And while I can tell you don’t need any help, just call in the unlikely event of an emergency.” Then his grin grew. “Or maybe I’ll call for you when I need rescuing.”
I laughed. “You do that, Friar Tuck.”
He gave a little bow. “Good night, fair lady.”
The door closed, and all I heard for the next few seconds were his soft footsteps on the stone stairs…and the thump of my heart, yearning.
Chapter Four
TUCK
Spiritual guidance? My ass. That woman was definitely in some kind of trouble.
Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me. No one can know I’m here. Please.
I lay in bed for the next few hours, thinking about it. Thinking about her.
Okay, okay — dreaming about her. I closed my eyes, picturing waves of long, glossy black hair. Eyes like two windows upon a starry night, filled with pinpoints of light. A body with curves in all the right places, but strong and agile at the same time.
Then I frowned, imagining a dozen predicaments a woman that beautiful might find herself in.
An unwanted suitor wanted her hand, and she was avoiding him.
