Page 67 of Fortress of Snow

“All’s well. You’re safe.” He patted the back of her shoulder. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“It was so real.” Her voice sounded strangled. “Lord Bristow was choking me, hitting me in my face. It was so real, just like he used to...” The rest of her sentence was too garbled to understand.

“All’s well. Nothing can harm you now.”

His heart constricted painfully at the thought of her former husband striking her. How could any man do such a thing to the woman he had vowed to love and cherish for as long as they both should live?

“Will these dreams never stop?” Her voice sounded anguished.

He held her close, rubbing her back as soothingly as he could. Her hands rested on his chest.

“You are so kind, Sir Berenger, so strong and brave. I have been so much better with you sleeping so close to me, in the next room.” She sniffed and seemed to be breathing more calmly.

“I am glad you have felt safe with me nearby.”

“Forgive me. I should get a lantern and light it.” She pushed out of his arms and stepped away from him.

She moved to the fireplace and stirred up the embers, setting them to glowing. Then she lit a lantern and came back to him.

“Better now?” he asked her, taking a step back.

“Are you leaving me so soon?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I think I should go.”

“You can stay another moment or two.” She set the lantern down, and before he knew what she was doing, she had slipped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest.

“You’re so warm,” she said in a low, throaty voice. “You have no idea how good it feels to be in your arms.”

Her soft, rather frail body pressed against him, along with her low voice telling him how safe he made her feel... It was intoxicating. He couldn’t help wrapping his arms around her, and then he noticed how thin and silky her clothing was.

His heart beat hard against his chest, heat rising up the back of his neck. Was this the woman he would marry?

Lady Bristow raised her head. He could feel her breath, soft and feathery, against his jaw. “I can only imagine how good it would feel to have you kiss me...”

She was tempting him. He should go. But the desire in her voice seemed to turn him to stone. He couldn’t move.

Her lips were on his chin. He was so much taller, she was probably standing on her toes to reach him.

He leaned his head down and her lips touched his. The gentle pressure quickly turned insistent and passionate, and he pulled away.

“Forgive me, Lady Bristow.” He tried to step out of her embrace and had to pull her arms loose.

“Stay with me.” Her words were commanding.

“I must go. It would not be right.” He stepped quickly to the door. “Good night.” He closed it in her face.

Back in his own room, he locked the door and broke out in a sweat across his forehead and down his back.

The new year had begun, and the castle had become a fortress covered in snow. It would be difficult to leave now because of the ice and snow, but he found himself feeling more and more conflicted and confused by Lady Bristow’s behavior. Was she truly having nightmares? Or was she only trying to manipulate him into her bed?

God, show me what to do.He wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist the persistent Lady Bristow.

Twenty

“Mazy, a letter came for you today from Lady Delia.”

Ro handed her the rolled-up missive while Anselm sat recording expenses in the Swan’s ledger.