Page 26 of Dark Rival

They ignored her. Aidan said, “There’s no one at Carrick in her time to protect her.”

Royce stiffened.

Allie looked back and forth between the two men, certain Royce had instantly understood Aidan’s inference. And he slowly faced her.

Uneasy, she tried to decipher his feelings. Most men would be shocked to learn of their death. Most men would be distressed to learn of the event, and the date. Royce’s gray gaze met hers.

And she saw the stark comprehension in his eyes. She wanted to ease any distress he might feel, to soothe any anxiety, any fear. She wanted to tell him that it was not the end, that they would fix it, change it somehow.

But a mask settled over his face. “I die in her time.” He was still looking at Allie as he spoke to Aidan. And he did not seem to care.

“Aye,” Aidan said. “Ye died in bravery for her, as any Master would.”

He nodded at that.

Allie still wanted to comfort him, not that he looked as if he needed comfort from her or anyone. He didn’t even seem upset. She laid her hand on his hard chest again, hating the feel of the sharp mail. And in spite of the vest, she felt him tense. “It was a mistake. An awful mistake. It doesn’t have to happen that way.” She tried to smile. Instead, horrified, she felt tears well. It was going to be a long time before she got over his death.

His thick, dark lashes lowered. “Yer fond of me. Ye grieved.”

Allie nodded slowly. “You’re fond of me, too, Royce.”

He made a harsh sound, and it was dismissive. Only then did he look up. Allie forgot to breathe. Everything was the same—she felt his lust, huge and bold, a presence throbbing between them, and she was overcome by it. It was as if a bond was there between them, connecting their desires, their bodies. She moved her hand lower, across the sharp mail, toward his waist. A terrific fold had appeared near the hem of the mail shirt.

“I need wine,” Aidan said. He wheeled and strode back through the gatehouse.

Allie was alone with Royce, although several knights remained at a distance. She trembled and waited for him to take her into his arms, hold her and tell her everything would be all right. Then they could go inside, upstairs. And by the dawn, everything would be back to the way it should be. She knew it. It wasn’t too late. They could get past these first few awful moments.

He took her hand and removed it. “Dinna tease me.”

Her eyes widened. “Royce, I am not teasing you.”

His smile twisted. “Yer lover is dead.”

She inhaled. “No, you are very much alive,” she cried. “And I thank the gods for it!”

“Ye mistake,” he said grimly, “two very different men.”

Allie backed up, shaking her head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why did ye follow me to my time?” he shot back.

Allie tried to control the hurt roiling through her now. “You don’t want me here?”

“Nay, I dinna.”

His words were a blow. She could not begin to fathom what he meant, or why, and what this meant for her, for them. She had never suffered such cruelty before. “You’re not making sense,” she said thickly. “You told me you waited six hundred years for me! You are not acting like a man in love.”

His eyes widened. “I am a soldier of God,” he said sharply. He nodded at the gatehouse, a gesture that was clearly a command for her to follow, and he whirled and strode that way.

Allie didn’t move. The man striding away from her was not the man she was in love with. It had become painfully clear. What had she done, coming back to his time? And what should she do now?

Allie wiped at some moisture on her face. Her world was spinning now. And the grief came back, hot, hurtful, fresh. With it, there was so much confusion.

“I can please ye, lassie.”

Allie tensed. She hadn’t paid any attention to his men. Several stood in a half circle around her now.

The giant who had just spoken to her smiled, revealing mostly missing teeth. He was huge and unshaven, and blood stained his tunic. He had no mail and he wore a longsword, a dagger and carried a spiked club. He was dirty and reeked of body odor.