Page 74 of Ruthless, But for Her

He minded too but didn't say so. Instead, he asked what she had read, and Cassia admitted she'd been too worried to concentrate.

As she spoke, he thought of their kiss. Of how good she'd felt in his arms, and how difficult it had been to fall asleep, knowing she rested beside him. Though a part of him had little desire to return to Mere's End, perhaps there, Ashton would get a full night's sleep.

Or perhaps them being in separate chambers, still under the same roof, would do little to settle his mind. When she was near, he could not think clearly. And that could be dangerous for both of them.

He kept himself away from her the rest of that day.

He told himself he needed to speak to Magge about the room, as well as watch the hall for whoever had asked after the two of them, and see to the horses. All of it was true. None of it was the reason he stayed away.

The reason was much worse. If he sat across from her again, the way he had as they ate the bread, he'd tell her what he'd started building in his mind. Papers. A ship. A woman who no longer existed. He wasn't ready to tell her of his plan yet—a plan that would see her leave him.

So Ashton stayed away, walking to the stable twice more than the horses required. He sent word with a rider bound for Mere's End of their imminent arrival—three lines, no name attached to the message, and burned the coal he'd written it with.

Cassia kept to the chamber. He knew because he brought the mid-day meal up and found her reading. She watched him, looking the same as she had that morn. She was obviously wondering if he would kiss her again. He knew that look—he’d seen it from nearly all of the women Margot employed—and it was usually directed at him or his brothers.

Though he understood that look all too well, never, not once, had it come close to persuading him. Ashton preferred to bed women who would not remain in Mere's End, with no ties to the town.

But Cassia? She was a different matter altogether, and Ashton was aware enough to know that kissing her again was not a good idea. He should not have done it in the first place.

By the time the sun was starting to set, he'd run out of reasons to stay away. Besides, she needed a meal, and he would take it with her. Surely, 'twas safe enough to eat one last meal together, and remain in the same bedchamber for one more night, though he planned to return to his position on the floor.

“I've brought supper. Rabbit pie. It’s tasty too, if Magge's word is good for anything,” he said, walking into the chamber now awash in an amber glow. Cassia had lit candles, and the atmosphere was soft—like her. She sat curled in the chair by the window, her hair loose over one shoulder, the book from that afternoon still open and unread in her lap.

He was tempted to brush her hair for her, even though it was clear she'd done so already, simply for the pleasure it brought her.

Tempted, but he stopped just short of offering.

They ate much as they had that morn, with Cassia seated on the chair and he on the edge of the bed, barely able to reach the wooden tray, though doing so gave him a reason to lean toward her.

They spoke of small things. Her mother, pressing flowers between the pages of a book so they'd keep their color, a habit Cassia had made her own. The Einar's name, Leif's father's before it was ever a ship, kept the man’s memory alive. The candles had burned down to stubs when she offered him that look again.

Ashton opened his mouth to tell her that he thought it best that he sleep on the floor.

“Ash?” she asked. The name struck silence in him. It was more intimate than even a kiss would have been.

“Aye?”

“I would like for you to kiss me again.”

CHAPTER 42

Cassia

Every time she asked a question, Ashton considered it. He had not once dismissed her outright. Had not once laughed. Each time it emboldened her to ask another, but this one was different from most. In some ways, it was more consequential than even the one she'd asked about her husband.

Because this was her asking for more than a kiss, and she was certain he knew it.

All day, she'd struggled to reconcile what she'd felt with him the day before and how Roland had made her feel each time he'd come to her.

And she had to know. So even if there was pain when he entered her, even if she was left feeling empty afterward, Cassia would have her answer. And if being with Ashton turned out to be like it was with Roland, she would simply remain a widow. Her father would not agree to it, nor to a nunnery.

She'd threatened it twice before. Once, when she’d turned down a suitor older than her father, and again with Roland, for she'd never liked the way he looked at her. Both times her father had sat her down, as if she were still a child, and talked her out of such a drastic decision.

But as she read the words she’d copied earlier from Gratian's Decretum on what voided a marriage before God, a plan began to formulate in her mind. One in which Roland would be her first and last husband.

Unbidden, she thought of being in Ashton's arms. And as she continued to think about their kiss, another plan began to form. An even more unlikely one.

But first, she had to know the full truth.