Page 26 of Claimed
Unlike the night before, her peat-brown hair was now braided and coiled tightly upon her crown. However, the style exposed her swanlike neck—a neck that he’d kissed and tasted.
Carr’s pulse quickened, and he tore his gaze away, looking down at the half-eaten oatcake.
Suddenly, he had no appetite for it.
“Lady Drew.” He tossed away the oatcake and rose to his feet as she neared the smoldering fire pit. Around them, the other men were taking down the tents. He should be helping, but this morning all he could do was stare at this woman like a lackwit. “Can I speak to ye for a moment … alone?”
His jaw clenched when he finished speaking, for his question reminded him of the one she’d asked him the day before at noon.
How much had changed since then.
Drew halted, her grey eyes widening as their gazes fused. She stared at him, her lovely face tensing. Then, warily, she nodded.
He led her over to where the horses waited, tied to trees on the edge of the oak wood. Even being near this place, the secret spot where he’d taken Drew up against a tree, made Carr’s pulse accelerate.
Not thinking, not allowing himself to dwell on what he was about to do—lest his courage fail him—Carr turned to Drew.
She stopped, around three feet away from him. Close enough that he could have reached for her if he’d wanted, could have hauled her into his arms and kissed her for all the world to see.
The need to do so was a dull ache in his chest.
“Drew,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened. “Isn’t it Lady Drew now, Broderick?” she asked, favoring him with a smile. However the expression was wobbly, forced. He could see by the sharp rise and fall of her breast that she was as affected by his nearness as he was by hers.
“I don’t want it to be,” he murmured. He was aware of the desperate rasp in his voice, yet he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t hold back how he felt any more. He’d ached to tell her the night before, but instead he’d led Drew back to her tent, kissed her in the darkness, and then let her return to her bed.
He was running out of chances. Inishail Priory loomed before them, a specter on the horizon. He had to say this now.
“I’m in love with ye, Drew.”
13
Tell Me Ye Don’t Care
IF CARR BRODERICK had just struck her across the face, Drew would have been less surprised. As it was, she merely stared at him, aware that her lips had parted in shock.
I’m in love with ye.
What was the man saying? Yet he hadn’t finished.
“I have been for years,” Carr continued, taking a step toward her. “Don’t take the veil at Inishail. Come away with me instead.”
Drew stared at him, her lips parting. “Carr,” she finally managed. “I don’t think—”
“Last night meant much to me,” he pressed on, his voice raw. Those blue-grey eyes, which she’d once thought so dispassionate, gleamed from the force of the emotions now roiling within him. “It was a claiming. Ye are mine and I am yers.”
Drew’s mouth clamped shut, and she swallowed. “It was acoupling, Carr … an enjoyable one … but it can never be more than that.”
“Why not?” His gaze narrowed, his throat bobbing.
“I’m a widow about to take the veil, and ye are my guard … it wouldn’t—”
“What does it matter?” he cut in, a nerve flickering in his jaw. “What I feel for ye, transcends everything.”
A wave of dizziness swept over Drew. She couldn’t believe she was hearing these words. Taciturn, stoic Broderick who’d shadowed her for the past six months, and who’d served her brother loyally for years before that, had just laid his heart bare before her.
“Carr … please don’t say such things, I can’t—” she began, but he interrupted her once more.
