Page 76 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

Matthew moved to Florence's side. His hand found the small of her back, a gesture of possession, of reassurance, or maybe insignificant.

"This is my wife," he said. "Mrs Collins."

The camp went quiet.

Florence felt the weight of half a dozen stares. Curiosity. Surprise. A few knowing glances exchanged between the men.

Wife.

The word hit her differently this time. After learning his real name was Carrick. After seeing the darkness in him. After sitting in silence for hours, wondering if she knew him at all.

Mrs Collins. A fiction. A cover story.

The truth only made him farther from her grasp.

"Wife?" Brennan's eyebrows climbed towards his hairline. "You got married?"

"I did."

"Without telling us? Without an invitation?"

"It was sudden."

"Sudden." Brennan shook his head as he wrapped his massive arm around Matthew’s shoulder and led him away to his seat closer to the fire. "Matthew Collins, settling down. Never thought I'd see the day."

Florence stood, uncertain what to do when Duff appeared beside her, his grin widening. "So you're the one who tamed him, eh?"

"I didn't tame him."

"No?" Duff's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Could've fooled me. Maybe you're the wild one, then."

Heat rose to Florence's cheeks before she could stop it.

"Duff." Matthew's voice cut across the fire, sharp as a blade. He wasn't looking at Florence, hadn't appeared to be looking at her. But clearly, he'd been watching.

Duff raised his hands in surrender, still grinning. "Just making conversation."

Another man approached. Lean with sharp features, with eyes that missed nothing. He studied Florence with an intensity that made her want to look away.

"Tam," Duff said. "Makes your husband look talkative."

Tam's mouth twitched. Almost a smile. He extended a hand.

"Ma'am."

"Mr Tam," she replied, shaking firmly.

Tam nodded once and melted back into the shadows.

"Come, come." Brennan was ushering them towards the fire. "Sit. Eat. You both look like death walking."

They settled around the flames. Someone pressed a bowl of stew into Florence's hands. She ate mechanically, barely tasting it, watching Matthew transform before her eyes.

His posture loosened. His voice lightened. He traded barbs with Duff, listened to Brennan's complaints. He even laughed once, a rough, surprised sound.

This was another version of him. The man who existed among equals. The man who could let his guard down.

The man she still couldn't reach.