Page 47 of Wynter's Bite

“Are these your stockings?” she asked.

He nodded. “Your feet were bare and cold. We’ll need to get some that fit you.” His frown deepened. “Shoes as well, but we have to wait until dusk.” He paced in the shadows, keeping far away from the patch of sunlight on the stairs, looking so forlorn and frustrated that she was compelled to cross the chamber and take his arm.

“I will be fine until then,” Bethany said, marveling at the firm muscles beneath his worn linen sleeve. “I’ve went without food longer at Morningside. Keene believed that fasting would clear one’s head of excess fancy.”

His eyes narrowed in fury. “That does not make it right.”

“Well, thanks to you, it is in the past.” Bethany tugged on his arm, trying to ignore the almost queasy gnawing of hunger in her stomach. “Come, sit by the fire with me.”

His expression relaxed slightly as he walked with her to the warm blaze. After bidding her to sit on the canvas pack, he sat beside her and took her hand. “I still cannot believe I’ve found you after all these years. All those days dreaming of holding you in my arms...” He sighed. “But always in much better accommodations.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “The accommodations may be less than cozy, but at least this is real.”

His knuckles brushed her cheek as he looked down at her, his eyes impossibly green. “You’re right. Finally, it is real.” He lowered his head until his lips brushed hers.

Desire rushed through her body at his kiss, more potent and thrilling than her memories ever conjured. Bethany turned and pressed herself tighter against him, moaning as he pulled her fully into his embrace.

They kissed with all their pent up hunger from being separated for so many years. Grasping, touching, exploring each other with sustained longing. Bethany moaned in bliss as the tender place between her thighs pulsed with primal need. Of its own volition, her body moved until she was in Justus’s lap, his hardness pressing against that sweet, throbbing place.

Justus’s low growl sent tremors of exhilaration through her being. His tongue stroked hers, a forbidden and delicious dance. Bethany arched her hips against him, craving even more.

Abruptly, Justus pulled her off his lap and set her back down firmly, albeit gently beside him. “No,” he said in a rasping voice. “You are still a maid and a lady. I cannot dishonor you.”

“I’m no lady anymore,” Bethany ran her fingers through his crimson hair, in thrall with its softness.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You’ll always be a lady to me.”

“Does that mean you will never—” She broke off as her cheeks burned too much to finish.

He shook his head. “Not until we are wed.”

The seriousness of the word was like a splash of cold water on her ardor. “You still want us to be married?”

Justus frowned. “Yes. Do you no longer accept my proposal?”

“That is not what I meant,” Bethany said quickly. “That is... I’m not certain. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I feel as if we should become reacquainted. Not to mention the fact that we are both fugitives until we find some sort of sanctuary.”

Though he still appeared wounded by her words, he nodded. “You speak wisely.” Something alarming yet unreadable flickered in his eyes and he scooted away from her.

Hurt speared her chest. “You don’t want to be close to me because I wish to wait?”

Justus shook his head vigorously. “I want nothing more than to hold you, but my hunger is too strong to bear. Our long run last night took my strength. I’ll need to hunt as soon as the sun sets.”

Relief that he was not rejecting her bled away to concern at his plight. “Couldn’t you feed from me?”

“No,” he said so sharply that she flinched. “You’d be weakened even further.”

Bethany sighed. He had a point. Still, she hated feeling helpless, a burden, unable to help him. And more than ever she longed to pull him into her arms and offer comfort. But his glowing eyes, forbidding expression and glimpses of white, sharp fangs indicated that wouldn’t be the wisest course of action. “Well, what do you propose we do to pass the time?”

At last, his lips curved in a smile. “Your optimism is a balm on my soul. I have a few books in my pack that I’ve long wished to discuss.”

They spent the next four hours reading passages of Beowulf together and having a spirited discussion. If not for the hard floor they sat upon, the chill of the crypt, and the hunger in their bellies, everything would have been exactly as it was when they first met.

As the light at the top of the stairs shrank away, Justus closed the book and shook his head. “After we feed and clothe you, we’ll have to try to secure more books.”

Bethany nodded emphatically. “I was hardly ever allowed to read at Morningside. And the few books permitted were so dull that they seemed more punishment than escape.”

Justus’s jaw dropped. “They didn’t allow you to read?” he repeated, aghast.

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