Page 33 of Stay with Me

“You have been to me. If you had not liberated me, I would be a dead man.”

“Even if Dawson never misses me, I knew I had to come and help you.”

Her whisper tickled his neck. That meant her mouth was close—close enough that all he had to do was shift a fraction, and he could lay claim to her lips. He had no doubt she would kiss with the same intensity that characterized everything she did. There would be no timidity or coyness or reluctance.

Just the thought of such a kiss sent a jolt of heat through his blood.

No. This wasn’t the time or place to let his mind stray. He had to think of something else. “Did Dawson give you the cut on your chin?”

She hesitated. “He didn’t mean it, wasn’t himself, wouldn’t have considered throwing things at me before Mum disappeared.”

He pictured her chin, her lips, then kissing those pretty lips. Again.

Curses upon him. “Tell me about your mother.”

“Only if you tell me about yours.”

“Anything.” Anything to distract him from doing something he’d regret.

~ 14 ~

Sybil loved talking with him.In fact, she couldn’t remember ever talking so much to one person in a single setting. Not even to her mum.

But she conversed with Nicholas for hours about everything. She told him about her dad abandoning their family when she’d been five, how he’d run off with another woman and had never been a part of their lives after that.

She tried to explain her mum’s work at tracking down and catching terrorists, but she found it difficult to help him understand the devastation and fear that modern people experienced with criminals who bombed public places or hijacked airplanes. It was equally hard describing her work as an investigator. But he was fascinated to hear about her training in kickboxing and in other defense techniques.

He told her about his mother, Lady Theresa, and his frustration that she had to live with Simon. As the youngest son, Nicholas wouldn’t inherit any land or estates. If he made a good match to a wealthy noblewoman, then he might change his fortunes. But what he was hoping for was a gift from the king—land in the Weald for his devoted service over the past ten years. Then he could finally build a home of his own and give his mother refuge there.

But King Richard was busy, not only with the ongoing war with France, but he’d faced recent unrest with an uprising among the poorest laborers in the country. Nicholas recounted the details last year when bands of rebels had gone throughthe Kent countryside, forcing noblemen to join their cause. Eventually, thousands of rebels had gathered outside of London to meet with the king, but after several tense days of murdering and looting, the leaders of the rebellion had been caught.

Nicholas also told her about the plague that was beginning to ravage England and spoke about how it had devastated the country thirty years earlier. She remembered some details about what had become known as the Black or Bubonic Plague, but it was different hearing about it firsthand. Now with the new outbreak, people were panicking. She didn’t blame them, couldn’t imagine a life without modern medicine.

At some point she must have dozed. She wasn’t sure how, since usually she struggled to fall asleep. But perhaps the fresh air combined with the physical exertion had worn her out.

She awoke suddenly to find strong arms wrapped around her and her head cushioned by a broad bicep. A broad, bare bicep.

For a moment, she attempted to gain her bearings. She was still in the past in the cave with Nicholas. Faint light slanted through the brush at the cave opening to reveal dawn.

Although cramped, they were both lying on the ground, and he was behind her, his arms surrounding her, the length of him pressed against the length of her backside.

Were they spooning?

A flush climbed into her cheeks. Yes, it seemed possible they were doing just that.

How had this happened?

No doubt he’d lain on his side to make himself more comfortable and to take the pressure off his injured back. And perhaps she’d curled up against him for his body heat in the dropping temperature of the night. In the process, he’d wrapped her up to keep her warm.

That was all there was to the spooning. Absolutely all.

Even so, she needed to extricate herself. With the attraction toward Nicholas that flared so easily, she had to put some distance between them.

She started to shift. But as Nicholas expelled a weary breath near her neck, she held herself motionless. With his injuries and the cold, perhaps he hadn’t slept well. If he was finally resting, she couldn’t wake him yet. She could wait for a little while before moving, couldn’t she?

Allowing her body to relax, she replayed the last twelve hours of being in the past, marveling again that this all felt so real. But was it? If so, what was happening to her body in the present time?

When Isaac showed up for work and saw her car still parked where it had been yesterday, he would be worried. If her mobile still had any battery life, he’d be able to track her to the closet. If not, he probably wouldn’t consider searching the castle for her, might even assume she’d been kidnapped by Dr. Lionel.