“Really?” He looked startled, then laughed.
She poked him in the chest. “I have patience when necessary.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“What else have you noticed?” she asked.
“That you don’t always see reason, which is why you need me.”
She sighed dramatically. “How have I ever managed without you?”
He rolled his eyes upward and shook his head. “Heaven only knows.” He kissed her quick. “But you needn’t worry any longer. I will look after you.”
“I know you will, and that’s what worries me.”
Chapter 16
Artair kissed her lovingly, wanting to kiss away all her worries. “We will wed and you will be safe.”
Zia slipped out of his arms as he tried to hold onto her, and it felt to him like a punch to his gut, a sense of deep loss overwhelming him. He wanted to reach out, grab hold of her and make sure she remained his. Instead he calmed his thoughts and confronted the situation more reasonably.
“It’s the best solution to our problem,” he said.
“Why do you want to continue to place yourself in harm’s way for me?” she asked.
A good question, he thought, and until he had a good answer, she was staying with him.
“Honora could use your help, and you can use mine. I’d say that’s a good exchange. Besides, you helped heal my brother Ronan. For that alone I and my family owe you.”
“So you wed me to repay me?” she asked with a quick shake of her head.
“It doesn’t hurt that we’re attracted to each other.”
Zia threw her hands up in the air. “You owe me and we’re attracted to each other—”
“You’re not denying it, are you?”
“No, I’m not, but I’ve made it very clear why I will marry—”
“Love,” he said, and nodded. “And given time—”
“No!” she shouted, and shook her finger in his face. “Love first, marriage second. It’s that or nothing.”
“You’re not being sensible. You need protection, and I can give it to you. I can also give you a good life.”
“I already have a good life,” she said adamantly.
He folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You constantly live with danger. That is no life.”
She poked him in the chest. “My life. My choice.”
“You can object all you want, and you can poke me all you want, but you will marry me,” he said confidently.
She stepped back away from him and mimicked his confident stance. “No, I will not marry you. We will simply continue to pretend we’re wed.”
“That won’t do. You heard that fool of a messenger say he will send someone to my home for proof.”
She shrugged. “We’ll address that matter when the time comes.”
“Then you’re willing to live with me as my wife once we arrive at my home?” he asked with a grin.
“So far our pretense has worked,” she answered, with her own wide smile. “I don’t see why it cannot continue to do so.”
He walked over to her and took hold of her shoulders. “Did you forget the other night in the river? What happens when you share my bed?”
Her face shadowed with doubt. She knew as well as he did that they would be intimate, and soon. And he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. So why did she fight it?
“Wed me and be done with it. We are good for each other,” he said, trying to make her see reason, though he knew there was little chance of that. She was tenacious, which proved useful at times, and other times simply got in her way.
She sighed heavily and battered her lashes. “Your romantic prose takes my breath away.”
“Unfortunately, at the moment there is no time for romance. Reason takes precedence here.”
“I will not be bullied into wedding you,” she said firmly. “We will continue to pretend to be wed—”
“Until it is necessary that we do wed,” he finished.
“If ever,” she added with a shrug.
He knew better, but then she would see, given time, that marriage was the best solution. He didn’t intend to keep reminding her. She would realize it eventually, and he believed—or was it merely a hope?—that she would see the wisdom in such a choice.
“We leave at first light tomorrow,” he said.
“Good. That will give me time to leave instructions with the women and visit with those recovering.”
He took hold of her hand, bringing it to his chest. “I think it would be wise if I remained by your side until we leave…or rather, until we reach my home.”
He watched as her defensiveness melted as quickly as spring snow. “You truly are concerned,” she said, easing closer.