Page 33 of Dark Rival

And Aidan seemed to read her thoughts. He said quickly, “He’s cold in his soul, lass. He doesna speak warmly to anyone.”

“Why?”

Aidan shrugged. “Ye’ll be stayin’ on a bit, then?”

She became serious. “I won’t let Moffat kill him in the future.”

Aidan sobered. “That be six hundred years from now—a very long time.”

“So you won’t help me?”

“I dinna believe ye can change the future. When the Ancients write a man’s Fate, t’is in stone.” His smile appeared. “So ye love him even if he is an ass?”

She flushed. “I do not love the jerko that just left the great room. But, one day, he will be the man I do love.” She hesitated and added, “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

Aidan folded his arms. “And if ye dinna wish fer me to wash yer back, ye want what from me?”

“Don’t you want me to apologize first for attacking you?” she asked softly.

His smile faded. “Lass, ye watched yer man die. I dinna need an apology.”

“You are so reasonable!” she exclaimed. She wished Royce had an ounce of Aidan’s compassion. Then she smiled at Aidan again. “You do know that you’re my Knight of Swords?”

Aidan looked mildly at her, amused. “I dinna think Royce would care to hear ye say so.”

She took his hand. “I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

He looked at their clasped hands. Allie felt his male interest escalate and she released his palm. “Could you please bring me some clothes from my time? I am not giving up on Royce and I need a few secret weapons.” She thought about Brian. He had really liked her. All of her boyfriends had adored her—and wanted her. Why should a medieval warrior be any different? Maybe a few sexy things would tame the beast.

Aidan’s mouth curved. “He’s a Master, lass. He doesna care what garments ye wear.”

She smiled grimly. “Actually you’re wrong. All men respond to the right red flags—just like bulls.”

Aidan laughed. “I’ll do as ye wish. I dinna mind seeing Royce acting like a bull.”

Allie sobered. “Why is he so angry? Why is he so set against me? Why is he with another woman, when I know he still wants me?”

“I dinna comprehend Royce at all. If I were him, I’d be in that bath with ye, now. But, lass, he has made it clear he willna allow another man near ye. And he dinna have to speak so boldly. I’d lose more than my head if I did share yer bath.”

Allie didn’t hesitate; she touched his cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for being so generous of nature, so kind and for helping me through this really hard time. I can’t thank you enough.”

Aidan’s eyes gleamed. But he stepped away from her. Softly he murmured, “If ye decide to give up on Royce…”

“I will never give up on Royce.”

Their gazes locked. “Ah, well, a man must try.” He saluted her. “I’ll find yer clothes.”

Allie watched him walk out.

ROYCE LAY IN BED, on his back, naked, hands beneath his head. He was more irate and frustrated than earlier, and the maid creeping out of his room did not help matters.

He sighed. “Peigi. I’m sorry…another time I’ll be more pleasing.”

She blushed, facing him, and curtsied. “Ye be pleasin’ all the time.” That was a lie and she fled.

He hadn’t been pleasing—he had been selfish and crude. He had spent ten minutes with her, no more, unable to stop thinking about Ailios. And he had the terrible suspicion that if he hadn’t been thinking of the Healer, he might not have become aroused enough to climax.

That was unbelievable. It was all unbelievable. Bedsport was meant to last for hours—or an entire night. And he was always aroused. What the hell was this failure?