Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(35)

“Oh. Where is that?” Maybe that would give her a clue as to where she was.

A lengthy pause ensued, during which he stopped blowing on her hands. “You have never heard of Westcott?” His tone suggested she should have.



“Nay.”

“Lord Dillon, Earl of Westcott?”

Was he another medieval reenactment friend of Robert’s? “Nay.”

“Feared throughout the land for his ferocity?”

“Not by me.”

“Wed to a sorceress?”

“Good for him. But nay.”

“Lionheart’s fiercest champion?” he prodded almost desperately.

“Who is Lionheart?”

He sucked in his breath. “Do you jest with me, Beth?” He sounded very serious all of a sudden.

Frowning, she tried to see him—a shadow among shadows—more clearly. “Nay. Why?”

He offered no answer, as though he were too appalled to think of one.

“Should I know him?” she asked tentatively. “Or is it an it? Is Lionheart the name of a charity or a rock group or something?”

His thumbs began to stroke her hands in tandem. “Nay, Beth.”

“Then, who—?” She lost her train of thought when she felt his lips touch her knuckles.

“We shall discuss this on the morrow.”

She wished he would discuss it now. He sounded shaken. Indeed, there was an odd texture to his voice. Indicating sadness? Concern? Something weighty she soon forgot entirely when he released her hands and urged her to roll away from him and onto her side.

Before she had a chance to feel disappointed, he curled his large body around hers, his chest warming her back, his hips cupping her bottom, the fronts of his thighs cushioning the backs of her own. He slipped one of his thick biceps beneath her head to form a surprisingly comfortable pillow. The other arm he looped around her, capturing both of her hands in his and nestling them against her chest just above her breasts.

His gentle touch and presence both warmed and soothed her.

Well, part of her was soothed. The other part had trouble catching her breath and was, in fact, trying unsuccessfully to calm her racing pulse as a different kind of heat pooled low in her belly.

Especially when she became aware of the obvious evidence of his arousal trapped between them.

“Um… Robert?”

“Ignore it.” Despite the increased beat of his heart against her back, he sounded completely unaffected.

“But—”

“You are a beautiful woman, Beth. I cannot help my body’s natural response to your nearness. But I will not betray your trust by acting upon it.”

“Oh.” Beth winced, silently cursing herself for sounding disappointed. “Do you want me to move away?”

His arm tightened around her. “Nay, you are perfect where you are.”

Relaxing into his embrace, she waited for sleep to come.

Instead of dreams, however, doubts returned to plague her.

“Robert?” she whispered after some time had passed.

“Hmm?”

“Would you think less of me if I told you I was afraid?”



He stiffened. “Of me?”

“Nay.” Though the city girl in her still thought she should be.

His muscles relaxing, he settled against her once more. “Then what? What frightens you?”

She bit her lip. “I think something is wrong. I think something is very, very wrong. I think I’m far away from where I should be. And I don’t know how I came to be here.”

A sigh wafted across her shoulder as he nuzzled his face into her hair, inspiring a sensual shiver. “All will be well, Beth. I will help you find your brother and the answers you seek.”

Just hearing those words helped her. “Thank you.”

He gave her a little squeeze. “Try to sleep.”

Too weary to argue, she closed her eyes.





Wide awake, Robert lay motionless.

His heat gradually suffused Bethany, stilling her shivers and drawing a sigh from her lips as she slipped into slumber.

’Twould be a long night, he thought, closing his eyes and willing his body not to respond when she snuggled her shapely bottom into his groin.

Unfortunately, his body had a will of its own. He had been so long without a woman that even a gentle breeze could make his manhood stand at attention. His brother Dillon would be shocked, convinced that Robert very cheerfully spent each night in a different woman’s bed.

In truth, Robert had been celibate for months. And this would be the first night he had actually slept beside a woman since Eleanor.

He could not decide how he felt about that.

He experienced some guilt, of course. Not because he was sleeping with a woman. Aside from his body’s involuntary response, there was nothing sexual about their embrace. He simply wished to warm her and comfort her.

But it felt so damned good to just lie there with Bethany’s fragile body nestled trustingly against his own, her breath a soothing whisper.

He had almost forgotten what moments like this could be like.

One of the horses nickered softly. The fire beyond the tent continued to crackle and snap whilst insects and occasionally larger beasts voiced their accompaniment.

Robert sighed, his breath ruffling Beth’s hair. His thoughts and his body’s rampaging response would no doubt keep him far from sleep this night. Concern would as well.