Page 32 of The Mercenary

And then something unexpected happened—he pulled her toward him in his sleep, bringing her close until her head was cradled on his shoulder. She allowed it because it felt so very natural, and because he didn’t seem to know he’d done it. Still sleeping peacefully, he sighed. Such a human sound from a man who often seemed more than mortal.

Snuggled against him, she fought with herself for much of the night. Berating herself for already being so reliant on him. For wanting him so desperately. For having put herself in this situation in the first place.

But mostly, for being alive when both her parents were dead.

They never should have been separated.

Somehow, Sabine finally fell asleep in his arms. And when she woke? Her husband’s hand was exactly where it had been earlier in the night, twisted through her hair and lying directly over her left breast.

She closed her eyes again, trying in vain to ignore her body’s response. To do so would be impossible, however, when every last part of her wanted him. Sabine actually opened her mouth to tell him so. To ask for what she wanted. But something she hadn’t even known she possessed held her back.

Somehow, she knew it would be more than one night, one act. And Guy had made it clear he was not interested in staying married. Which meant she was not interested in being intimate with him.

A lie, of course. But Sabine had stayed strong. She’d held her tongue and—miracle of miracles—eventually fell back asleep. But not for long.

When the door burst open, Sabine jumped from the bed, taking the coverlet with her.

“You need to dress.”

His features were not soft now. In fact, Guy appeared as if he were preparing for battle. She’d not seen him with a hauberk on before. Hadn’t even realized he owned one. She had seen many men wearing such shirts of mail, but none of them had looked like this. The effect was devastating to her rapidly ebbing willpower.

Sabine no longer cared if submitting to her husband was the right thing to do. Just then, she would have done so. If not for his next words.

“Lord Burge is here.”

His demeanor suddenly took on a new meaning. One that had her scrambling to recover her gown.

“I’ll explain later. Meet me outside the chamber as soon as you are ready.”

She nodded, her heart thudding incessantly.

He was here. So soon?

Sabine’s hands began to tremble as she smoothed out the gown atop the bed. She’d known he would come for her. But that he’d discovered her so soon . . . And he had come himself rather than sending men . . .

She took a deep breath, cursing the tears in her eyes for betraying her carefully constructed bravado. Why was she so afraid? He had no claim any longer. She was a married woman. But when she thought of him, the messenger of her parent’s death . . . the same man who discarded her so easily.

“Sabine.”

Guy lay a hand on her arm, his touch as gentle as his soft tone. But it didn’t help. She was there again, in Lord Burge’s hall, and he was about to tell . . .

“Sabine?” Guy spun her around.

When she blinked, the tears finally broke loose, dripping silently down her cheeks.

Guy wiped one cheek with his thumb. And then the other.

He breathed in so deeply, she felt compelled to do the same. And then they both did it again, and again. Her heartbeat slowed. Her hands eventually stopped shaking.

“Close your eyes.”

She did. Now both hands were on her arms.

“Think of something else, for just a moment. Anything that will make you smile.”

Sabine couldn’t do it. Not now. Not with Burge just belowstairs. Could he somehow discredit her marriage to Guy?

“Sabine.” His tone was both hard and coaxing at the same time.