“Nay,” he said, her honesty and caring causing his anger to subside. “I want you safe, that’s all.”
“No healer is safe until the king finds who he searches for,” she reminded him.
He stood silent for a moment, not paying mind to her words, relieved that no harm had come to her, and the urge to kiss her overwhelming him. He warned himself against it, but it did little good. The desire was too much to ignore.
His hand was suddenly at the back of her neck, holding it firmly as his lips came down on hers.
It was no soft, sweet kiss that landed on her lips. It was eager and demanding and Elara responded without giving it thought. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. But she couldn’t resist and her lips demanded as much from him as he did from her.
His hand slipped off the back of her neck, down along her back to tuck her hard against him, though he didn’t need to persuade her. She responded willingly, instinctively as though it was meant to be, as though they were truly husband and wife.
The thought had her tearing her mouth away from his and stepping hastily away from him, and with labored breath said, “This cannot be. There is no future for us.”
“But there is this moment to enjoy,” he said, his eyes heated unmistakably with passion.
Briefly, she considered it, only briefly. “I do not look for a moment, a joining that means little.”
He stepped back, glancing down at the food offerings on the table and snatched up a piece of cheese. “So, you are a maiden who prefers marriage to pleasure.”
His words reminded her just who he was. “And you are a wanderer who prefers pleasure to anything permanent. A mismatched pair for sure.”
“Aye, that we are,” he said, understanding that she meant they would never know intimacy together. “We’ll leave at first light. Tonight, we’ll enjoy the shelter and decent food.”
Sadness washed over her when she expected relief that he understood and agreed. She was wise in realizing it and yet it hurt her heart to accept it. She had to guard against her feelings for him, not let them root more deeply and grow, for they would never bloom.
Rest was something she could use after the long day, but as for the food, she didn’t know if she could take a bite. Her grumbling stomach let her know it thought differently.
Dar laughed hearing it, glad for the distraction from the kiss that he hadn’t wanted to end but knew it was better that it did. She was right. They had no future together. So why did that irritate him so much?
He waved her toward the table. “Come, wife, and let us fill our bellies, then rest, for tomorrow holds no promise of either.”
Night fell and the village fell silent. A faint wind sighed against the shutters, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and rain. The hearth burned strong, keeping the room heated nicely.
Elara lay beneath the blanket on her side staring at Dar where he sat with his back against the door, cloak drawn around him, his head tilted back against the wood. The firelight touched the sharp line of his jaw, the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“You needn’t sit there all night,” she murmured.
“Aye, I do,” he said quietly. “You’ve a way of finding trouble even in kindness.”
She smiled faintly into the darkness. “You make that sound like a fault.”
“It’s a dangerous gift,” he said, eyes half-closed. “But I suppose I’d rather guard it than see it lost.”
The warmth in his tone startled her, and for a moment neither spoke. The only sound was the pop of the fire and the distant cry of an owl.
Sleep began to pull at her, slow and heavy until it finally claimed her.
He sat, his eyes fixed on the flames until they burned low. When at last he turned his head to look at her, he found her sleeping soundly, her silver hair spilling over the pillow like moonlight.
He let out a short breath before he whispered, “You have unleashed something in me, woman, something I don’t know if I will be able to contain.”
Then he leaned his head back against the door, nodding off into a light sleep.
Chapter Ten
Village of Barloch
Beneath Caerith’s Shadow