Page 29 of The Protector’s Promise

“What would happen if you did not follow these orders?”

She asked too much of him.

“I would suffer. Kenshire would suffer. You yourself could not answer what you might do in the same circumstance. Not to mention Almain could . . .” He stopped. What would the regent do exactly?

“But you would suffer most of all. Without your precious Halbury, you would not have your land and title.” Her chest rose and fell with indignation.

“You think that’s all I care about?”

“Am I wrong?”

Court shook his head. “You’d never understand.”

“Try me.”

He knew she’d do anything, say anything to stop this attack, and yet he found himself opening himself to her nonetheless. “I loved her,” he said. Stop, Court. Don’t make a fool of yourself.

But if he didn’t, she would push and push, and either he’d succumb or he would be forced to ignore her until she had the stone. But he’d tried that, and it didn’t work.

Marion was not a woman to be ignored.

“Lady Sara,” he said, the words like acid in his mouth. “But I was not enough. Richard loved me, cared for me, but he never intended me for his daughter.”

“But you are a knight, a lord—”

“A title given to me by Richard.”

“Surely he—”

“Knew what I did not yet understand. I was foolish, but after this raid—”

“You will be the very same man I stand before now.”

“No,” he said. “You’re wrong. I will be the man who was generously rewarded for obeying the king’s regent. Land, title, an advantageous marriage.”

She pursed her lips. “So that is why you’ve waited, even though Lady Sara has long since married.”

“Waited?”

“I wondered why someone like you was not already wed.”

“Someone like me?” The edge was gone from his voice, and he sounded weak, plaintive. He should have never opened his mouth.

“Someone strong and protective. A champion for the weak, one who is disciplined, if not a bit arrogant, and who clearly knows how to please a woman.”

She took a step closer to him.

“You please me well, Sir William, Lord of Camburg.”

An instant jolt of lust was followed by an ache in his chest that felt as if it would tear him apart. He had not asked for those words.

“Don’t, Marion.”

She took yet another step toward him.

“Why?” she asked.

The answer was too painful. He longed to be with her, but he could not go through it all again. Even without having to answer to Almain . . . even if she wanted them to be together, her father certainly would not. It was easier for him to turn the conversation back to her.