Page 13 of The Protector’s Promise

He turned his head slowly, raising his eyebrows at her. “You are really concerned about propriety? After all that has happened today?”

“And they call us barbarians.”

“Who does?”

Was he serious?

“You. The English.”

Court turned onto his side, propping his head on his hand. “Have you met an Englishman before?”

“Of course.” And that was the truth.

“And he dared to call you a barbarian?”

She thought about the question for a moment. “No, but—”

“I do not think that.”

She tried to slow her rapidly beating heart by willing it so, but instead it did just the opposite.

“You don’t?” she managed.

“No,” he said, looking at her lips.

Was he going to kiss her?

“I think you are extraordinary.”

It was so unexpected, Marion simply stared at him. What did she say to such a thing? That she felt the same way? That her traitorous body seemed to forget this man had stolen her destiny from her?

Foolish chit, he only thinks you’re extraordinary in the way everyone else does. How could she have forgotten?

“Because of my gift,” she said softly.

He didn’t answer at first.

Finally, he asked, “You sense danger?”

“Of sorts.” She pulled the blanket over her chest. It was getting colder with each passing moment. “I sense when someone means harm.”

His jaw shifted, the slight tick a sign that he was annoyed, or perhaps anxious?

“What is it?” she asked. Court’s eyes darkened. Something had upset him.

“And that is what you sense from me?” he finally asked.

She really should lie. The more information she gave him, the more power Court would have over her. “No.”

They were so close that Marion could feel the rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed.

Too close.

Her answer seemed to startle him.

“Why?”

Marion wished she knew. “Mayhap it does not work on you?”