He’d followed his heart last night, also. He’d only wanted to hold Lady
Courtney, to feel her body next to his. It didn’t matter whether they did a
love dance or not; he just wanted his arms wrapped around her. Could he trust
his heart, or would he lose it again in a game of chance?
He’d take the chance. No matter the outcome, Lady Courtney was a woman
with more than mere beauty. She stood up against her enemies, even if she
didn’t fully recognize them. She was a woman who dared to believe in the unbelievable.
A woman who, against her better judgment, trusted him when no one else seemed
to. She was a woman every man wanted, and if he laid there watching her a
moment longer, he’d have to pull her down to him and love her like he should
have done last night—fully and completely.
“Thou wilt rub the color from those pages if thou continuest in that
manner.” Reynold pulled the blanket off and then moved to get up off the bed.
It wasn’t his regular bed of straw, but it was more comfortable than a few hard
bales of hay would have been.
Courtney stood, toppling over the chair. “No, don’t get—” she cried out,
covering her eyes.
Am I that disgusting that she can’t bear to look at me? Was it not her
body that kept me warm during the night?
Laughing, Reynold stood, pulling his britches up around his waist. “That
brew hath a pleasing aroma. May I have a cup?”
“Ah, yeah.” She pivoted twice, as if she wasn’t sure what she needed or
where she was. Reynold couldn’t help but smile at her obvious dismay over a
half-naked man in her shop. The rush of pink on her cheeks only made her more
alluring and beautiful in his eyes.
She finally collected herself and poured the delicious brew, setting the
cup on the table in front of him. “Thou hast read more of our life together?”
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