Part 17 (1/2)

”Aye, and you're not following where I'm going at all, are you?”

”What do you mean?”

Catarina nodded at Ewan. ”Don't you think it odd that you feel jealous when I speak of wooing him?”

Nora stiffened at what she was implying.

”Nay,” she lied.

Catarina laughed. ”You like him, admit it.”

”I do not,” she said primly, picking up the ladle and returning to stir the stew. She didn't dare admit her feelings aloud to anyone. She could barely acknowledge them to herself. ”He is entirely not the type of man who interests me.”

Catarina looked aghast. ”My lady, you set your sights too high. What more could you ask for in a man?”

”Refinement. A man who is decorous and mannerly. One who is-”

”Boring.”

Nora gave her a peeved look. ”How so?”

”Have you ever been around such men? They're mewling. Fussing over their hair, their clothes. They're more woman than man.”

Catarina indicated Ewan with her head. ”Give me a man who isn't afraid to get a little dirt on his hands any day. Think you your gentleman would have gone after you because you tarried in the forest? He would have feared for his own life and given no thought to yours.

”Do you think such a fanciful, prim man would have laughed off what we did to him? Or would he have demanded our lives for daring to muss his hair and clothes? Ewan has been a very good sport, all things considered. Any other man would have Viktor's head for what we've done. Instead Lord Ewan travels with us as a friend and equal.”

”He is a bit odd, which confirms what I'm saying.”

Catarina shook her head. ”Sometimes, my lady, a person needs to look at someone only with her heart and not with her eyes.”

Nora glanced over to where Ewan sat. The other men were joking and laughing. He sat with his face stern, his eyes troubled.

How she wished she could make him laugh. ”He's always so sad.”

Catarina concurred. ”You know, my mother has a saying. A jovial man can be happy with anyone, but when a sad one laughs, he treasures the one who brings him the suns.h.i.+ne.”

Nora thought about her words. There was truth to that. No one should live with the guilt Ewan did, especially when he hadn't been at fault.

Kieran had made the choice to end his life. Ewan had done nothing more than make the mistake of believing a lying tongue.

Nora had no real designs on Ewan romantically.

No matter how appealing he was or how well he kissed. At the end of the day, he wasn't what she wanted for a husband. But she wouldn't mind i helping him if she could.

No one deserved to be relegated to a cave without family or friend.

She had a few days with him. Mayhap a little reprieve would help him see that life was better when one partic.i.p.ated in it.

Chapter 6.

”What are you doing?” Ewan asked as Nora came up to him with a peculiar impish look on her face.

The look was so out of character that it made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

She handed him her lute. ”You said you would teach me to play. I would like another lesson.”

He took the instrument from her hand while she sat down next to him.

Closeto him.

He tried not to notice the happy glint in her eyes. The way tendrils of her blond hair fell around her face as she lowered her brat to watch him.

She possessed a great beauty. Beauty that made him burn for her.

Even now he could taste her innocent kiss, remember the sensation of her warm breath on his face.

The way she had looked when she had told him that he kissed well...

It set fire to his blood. His heart pounded, and he felt oddly dazed, as if her presence alone intoxicated him. Made him light-headed and happy.

No woman had ever made him feel like this.

Not even Isobail.

Isobail had only aroused his body. At the time he'd been too young and inexperienced to understand the difference between love and l.u.s.t.

What he felt for Nora was entirely different. He actually liked the la.s.s. Liked spending time with her, listening to her unique ideas and endless stories.

On some deep inner level, she soothed him.

He took her left hand and moved her fingers into position as he showed her the first three chords to his mother's favorite ballad.

”You're very good at teaching,” Bavel said from across the fire.

”Yes, he is,” Nora agreed.

Unused to praise, Ewan cleared his throat and showed her another bar. ”Ateacher is only as good as his student.”

She smiled up at him.

Enchanted, Ewan couldn't take his eyes off her face. Her skin was so smooth and perfect. Her eyes were clear and bright. Her lips, red and plump, were made for long, hot kisses. For driving a man wild with desire.

And she was definitely doing that to him now. He felt reckless and somehow free. Wanting her no matter the rational arguments.

Her presence took him past sanity and reason.