Page 54 of The Mercenary

His answer had been to spin her around.

“Slightly?”

Though they were not the only people dancing, they were easily the most visible. With the caution Guy had been taking lately, it seemed a strange departure.

“I was being kind.”

He pulled her close. “Kinder than last eve,” he whispered in her ear. Sabine’s core clenched in anticipation of his next words. “Do you remember, lady wife? When I asked for a moment’s respite?”

“A moment? ’Twas more than a brief moment, and if I recall, your hand had strayed—”

“Ahh, I do remember now. I was surprised to find you wet and ready again so soon.”

Sabine looked both ways, mortified by the thought that someone might have heard them. The fiddler had stopped playing, and she tried to sit back down.

Instead, she found herself in Guy’s arms, at his mercy.

“I am both men.” Sabine shivered at his husky tone. “And did warn you. I am no gentleman.”

She disagreed. The only place he was decidedly a mercenary was in bed, where he was merciless in his quest to please her, something he did splendidly well. Yet he still pulled from her each time they lay together. He said nothing about it. But neither did she.

And Sabine knew why.

Guy had spoken more of his desire to form his own company of mercenaries. He admitted he’d turned down offers from two of his friends, Terric and Conrad, to captain their men-at-arms. Although he would have been proud to serve either man, he told her, he didn’t like the thought of being rooted to one place.

She understood what it meant. His feelings for her had clearly caught him off guard, but his plans didn’t leave room for a wife and a child.

Then again, Sabine had also not expected to meet a man she wished to keep as her husband. She’d become accustomed to the notion she would have to take care of herself.

When the door creaked open now, Sabine nearly ran to Guy. Part of her had feared he would not come back.

But something stopped her. The look on his face, perhaps.

She had never seen him quite so angry.

Slamming the door behind him, Guy proceeded to pace back and forth as she’d been doing.

“He is a bastard,” he spat, tossing his sword and scabbard onto the bed on his next pass. “De Chabannes does not intend to make this easy.”

“What did he say?”

Sabine sat on the edge of the bed, watching her husband walk to and fro.

“He will consider the offer.”

She waited, but Guy said no more.

“And?”

He stopped, ran his hands through his hair, and looked her in the eye. Two large strides brought him to the bed. Sabine thought he intended to kiss her as he leaned down. Instead, he snatched up the recently discarded scabbard, attached it to his belt, and then grabbed his sword.

“He was not at all remorseful for having alerted Lord Noreham to our presence. He said little and agreed only to consider my offer carefully.”

He turned toward the door. “I cannot stay here any longer. Come.”

Shoving aside her disappointment, she asked Guy where they were going.

“To the village. I dislike the man but don’t believe he’s told Noreham about our true purpose. We should be safe enough.”