Page 21 of Border Lord’s Bride

He chuckled and helped her down. As she slid down beside him, her cloak opened and he could feel her warmth against him. And again he hungered to feel her lying in his arms, her body entwined with his the way her bedsheets had wrapped her earlier.

His body clenched at the reminder she was his by the terms of their betrothal agreement to do with as he pleased. The knowledge was a potent elixir against his will. He couldn't pull his gaze from the temptation of her mouth. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and taste her lips. They were as dark and inviting as he remembered.

"Shall we climb to the top?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts, making him more aware of the enchantment she held him in. She withdrew two steps, but not before he noted the color in her cheeks. Even in the moonlight there was no mistaking she'd been as affected by his nearness as he was by hers.

He tied the horse's reins loosely about a nearby bush, all the while trying to force the memory of her warmth and softness from his thoughts. They were here to build memories of a different kind.

He tossed the saddlebag over his shoulder and hesitated at the sight of Elizabeth. Her hair fell free around her shoulders to her waist, wavy from the earlier braid she'd worn. Beneath the silver moonlight, she was as much the tempting siren as he'd painted her to be.

Since the moment she returned to his life, he'd been assailed by old feelings and emotions. Part of him wanted to hold her and kiss her, while the other part wanted to run as he had before, as far away from her, as fast as he could.

But he'd tried running away once, and it hadn't banished her from his thoughts. He released a heartfelt sigh. Did that mean he should hold her and kiss her instead? Was that the new memory he wanted to make here this night?

Lucius's emotions warred inside him. His intention had been merely to spend time with her—to create new memories—and yet the sight of her wild innocence, her sweet scent, the feel of her warmth were almost more than he could bear. He craved her on a level he did not understand. She filled him with more than just lust; she did things to him he'd never been able to comprehend.

"Lucius?" she asked, with sudden curiosity lighting her wide, brown eyes.

"Let's go." He reached for her hand, and together they hiked the short distance up the rocky ledge to sit atop a huge outcropping of slate.

At the top she smiled. "I remember being here as children and thinking this was the farthest I'd ever seen."

"When it's clear, you can see all the way to England from here." He cleared the ledge of the remaining snow before he set the saddlebag down and gathered wood into the center of the rock.

It wasn't long before cheery flames glowed and sparks fluttered above the fire. The crackling of the wood as it burned peppered the darkness with noise. The warmth of the bonfire pressed back the chill of the night enough so that Lucius had removed his cloak and set it on the rock beneath them.

Elizabeth sat a ways from him and reclined on her elbows against the soft fur that lined his cloak. She stared at the star-filled sky, looking as content before the fire's heat as a feline. At the sight of her, a different sort of need he hadn't felt in years suddenly consumed him. He reached for his saddlebag and withdrew a sheaf of linen and a charcoal he'd tossed inside. He spread the paper on the rock beside him. The faint scratching noise of his charcoal filled the silence.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, turning to face him.

"Come see for yourself."

She hesitated for a moment before she stood and moved cautiously to his side. "You can't be drawing the view, because we can't see any—" She gasped and unsteadily sank to her knees beside him. "You're drawing me."

He kept his gaze fixed on the drawing, unable to see what emotion her eyes might reveal. He'd drawn her as he'd seen her by the fire. Even in only shades of black and grey he'd managed to capture the fire in her gaze, the high color in her cheek, the wild disarray of her hair.

This was not the woman he remembered from the past. She was an entirely different woman from the one he'd left five years ago.

Chapter Eight

Elizabeth stared in wonder at the drawing Lucius had created of her. The image he'd drawn was far more sensual than the painting in his chamber, although this time all her clothes were on. It was the look in her eyes that said it all.

Her breath hitched. "Lucius…" His name fell from her lips in a breathless whisper of longing.

His fingers stalled a hairbreadth above the linen. "Do you approve?"

"Aye." Their gazes met and she was enthralled by the possibilities she saw there. She knew then, as certainly as she'd ever known anything in her life, something had changed. He was no longer the young man who'd run away five years ago. The pain and regret that had been ever present in his eyes since his return was gone.

He was close enough that she could feel the silken rush of his breath against her cheek. If she leaned forward she could bring her lips into contact with his. And if she did, this time she wouldn't have the power within herself to pull away. Instead of leaning forward she found herself saying, "How do you create such details?"

He shrugged. "Images linger in my mind."

His words, however innocent, revealed so much. No wonder he had such a difficult time letting go of his memories. They were etched on his mind in a different fashion than for most people. "You should paint more," she said quietly.

"Come sit by me." He patted the empty space on the woolen cloak beside him and set his drawing aside. "We must speak."

Elizabeth's heart faltered. Was she wrong in thinking she'd seen something different in his gaze only moments before? Was that what this outing was all about, one last moment together before they would part forever?

He moved to face her. "What do you want from this arrangement between our families?"