Page 34 of Stay with Me

What would Dawson think when she ended up missing just like Mum? Would he regret his last words to her?

Her heart gave a beat of protest at the prospect of hurting Dawson. But then she pushed aside her concern. Her disappearance wouldn’t bother him. She’d given him what he wanted—no more nagging or interference in his life.

Even so, she’d be wise to work out how to put more holy water into one of the hiding places so she’d be ready to go back if she found herself in too much danger. Maybe she’d search for the wellspring at St. Sepulchre Nicholas had mentioned. Yes, that’s what she’d do. Once she made sure Nicholas was well away from Simon’s men and safe from recapture, she’d venture onward to Canterbury.

Nicholas released another breath against her neck, and before she knew what was happening, his lips brushed against her pulse.

The caress was so light she could almost believe he’d done so unconsciously, shifting his head in his sleep and making contact without realizing it. The slight touch of his lips to her neck brought her to complete wakefulness. Rapid messages zipped along her nerve endings, making her keenly aware of him and his beautiful body.

One of his hands slid over her arm, and he rubbed gently, as if to chase away the chill there. The other slipped to her waist, and his fingers found the bare patch of skin where her shirt had crept up. The touches in both places roused a sharp but sweet need deep inside. But before she could make sense of the contact, his lips pressed against her neck again, this time fully.

Pleasure coursed through her, almost explosively. She nearly gasped but closed her eyes and willed herself not to react.

His lips didn’t linger. Instead, he mumbled softly and incoherently, confirming that he was still asleep, that he didn’t realize he was overstepping the boundaries they’d established.

Was he thinking about her in his sleep? Or someone else?

“Sybil,” he whispered, answering her question. His fingers at her waist slipped upward, grazing underneath her shirt near her ribs.

She gave a start and placed her hand over his to halt his exploration before he moved too high. As she did so, he released a soft moan and brought his mouth against her neck more forcefully. The pressure was hot and hungry, and it sent a charge of electricity through her veins that lit her whole body with need.

Although he might be half-asleep and not aware of all he was doing, she was wholly cognizant and had to put a stop to this interaction.

“We can’t,” she whispered, but somehow her voice came out low and full of wanting. As much as she knew she needed to break the connection, she couldn’t force herself to move, didn’t want to leave his arms.

He made her feel things she hadn’t experienced in ages too, maybe never.

At the rustle of the nearby brush and sudden light pouring over them, she froze. Nicholas stilled too, and his breathing changed.

“And what have we here?” came a voice with a thicker accent, like someone from West Midlands with a Brummie dialect.

Nicholas relaxed and laid his head back against her bunched-up coat, which apparently he’d used as a pillow. She felt the cold hilt of his dagger as he rested it against her hip. She hadn’t noticed him unsheathing it. In the next instant, he had it hidden again, which assured her that the newcomers posed no threat.

“Ye clarting about in there, Nicholas?” Rounded eyes amidst a fleshy face peered at them. A middle-aged man with a mostly bald head. A kind face but one that was rapidly turning red.

“No, we’re not doing anything, Father Fritz.” Nicholas attempted to extricate himself, but in the process he landed on top of her, his body pressing down, making them appear guilty of indulging in intimacies.

“Then why, my dear son, are ye both stripped down to nothing?”

More curious faces filled the mouth of the cave, taking in their sleeping arrangement, which she could admit looked compromising.

“I can explain,” Nicholas said.

“No explanation needed, sire.” One of the men guffawed. “We all know well enough how things work.”

His bawdy comment brought more laughter.

“Stand back.” A command boomed from outside the cave. The men staring inside disappeared, and another man poked his head inside, his face thin and severe. He swept his gaze over them, then shook his head curtly. “God’s bones, Nicholas. What are you doing?”

“It be plenty clear.” Father Fritz spoke just outside the cave. “Nicholas is fornicating.”

Nicholas released a long sigh. “I am not fornicating.”

Sybil could only stare up at him. He was still perched in a compromising position above her. A part of her wanted to laugh at the situation. Another part of her burned with embarrassment that these men assumed she and Nicholas had engaged in sex.

The man with the severe expression pinned a hard look upon Nicholas. “Is this woman your wife?”

“No—”

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