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  Everything.

  Garrett halted by the fire and dragged his hand through his hair. While the warmth of the flames offered comfort, the torment inside him tightened like a viper smothering its prey.

  The boy bit off another mouthful of pie. At least now he took the time to chew properly; in the days after Garrett had rescued him, the lad had shoved handfuls of food into his mouth as if ’twas the last fare he’d eat for months.

  “You had best tell me the problem,” Corwin said. “You did promise we would always tell one another the truth.”

  Indeed, Garrett had made such a promise. And, if he wanted the lad to grow up to be a far better man than he’d ever be, he must not break that vow.

  Garrett toed a broken hearth tile. “She knows.”

  “Knows what? That Lord Ransford planned the kidnapping?”

  “She knows who I am.”

  Corwin paused mid-chew. He set down the rest of his pie. “How? Did you tell her?”

  “Nay.” I was a damned fool. “Long ago, she and I were lovers. I…kissed her.”

  The lad rolled his eyes. “Why did you do that?”

  “I wanted to.” When the boy grimaced, as though disgusted by the whole notion of kissing, Garrett added: “I did not admit, though, that she’d guessed correctly.”

  Overwhelmed by a gnawing inner restlessness, Garrett knelt, picked up another log, and set it on the blaze. What he hadn’t admitted was that when holding her in his arms, he hadn’t been able to resist kissing her. It had not been a matter of choice; it had been as vital to him as breathing.

  Brushing dried lichen off his hands, Garrett stood.

  “Mayhap part of you wanted her to know,” the boy said quietly.

  He’d wanted Addy to recognize he’d grown into a corrupt fool, and not at all the hero he’d dreamed of becoming? Hell, nay. But, as the lad stared up at him, Garrett realized there could be some truth to the boy’s words.

  Corwin ate the last bite of pie. “Since Lady Marlowe knows who you are, why bother keeping your identity from her?”

  A bitter laugh rumbled from Garrett. “I am not the Garrett she will remember. I am certainly not worthy of her. I have done terrible things—”

  “So have most knights. Unlike others, you are a good man.” Corwin tapped his scrawny chest. “Here.”

  Garrett swallowed hard, for he didn’t deserve such praise. Yet, his conscience told him that after what had happened between him and Addy earlier, he had a responsibility to make things right.

  He wouldn’t reveal Ransford’s involvement; Garrett would still fulfill his agreement with his lordship, and once done with the wretched abduction, Garrett would head north, never to return to this area again.

  The lad was obviously waiting for some kind of a reply. “I have a few matters to attend,” Garrett said, touching his beard.

  “And then?”

  “Then I will go and speak with the lady.”

  Chapter Seven

  Addy paced, stretching her legs after watching the deepening hues of sunset through an arrow slit.

  Garrett had loved sunsets. He’d told her so, long ago, while they’d frolicked in the ocean. Wind tousling his hair, his features touched with awe, he’d told her of the sky’s vibrant gold, orange, red, and purple hues reflected in gleaming splendor by the water, and seeing the sun slip down into the ocean.

  Garrett. Was he the man who’d kissed her earlier? If so, why had he pretended to be a stranger to her? Why not reveal his identity in the tailor’s shop or once she’d woken in the tower? If he really was Garrett, she had to wonder what had happened to him to turn him into who he was now.

  She must find out if he was the man she’d loved. Somehow.

  As Addy turned to retrace her steps, she heard someone approaching. She folded her arms and waited for the door to open.

  Her captor saw her standing by the table and chairs. He must have anticipated another attack—she hadn’t, after all, agreed not to try to escape again—but when he saw she wasn’t about to attack him, his tensed shoulders lowered.

  He was carrying a wooden board laden with food. What was on the board, though, she couldn’t say, for she couldn’t tear her gaze from his clean-shaven face. When he reached back to shut the door, revealing his profile to her, her heart jolted, for not only was he incredibly handsome, but he looked exactly like her Garrett would have but years older.

  He faced her once again. Mother Mary. A fierce tremor whipped through her. “You are Garrett.”

  His lips flattened, suggesting he was reluctant to divulge the truth.

  Then he nodded.

  “My God,” she whispered. Her legs threatened to give way, so she grabbed the edge of the table and sank down into a chair. Hurt and confusion swirled up inside her, and tears brimmed, but she blinked them away, refusing to let him see her cry.

  “I brought us something to eat,” he said.

  Eat? ’Twas the last thing she wanted to do.

  He waited, clearly giving her the final say in whether she accepted his offering. How curious that he gave her a choice, when she was his prisoner. Tension hummed within her, along with the urge to angrily send him away, but she did want answers to the questions filling her mind. And, God help her, part of her still loved him.

  When she nodded, he crossed to the table and set down the fare. The scents of bread and cheese rose up to her; her stomach whined.

  “How…?” Clearing her throat, she said, “I was told you had died in France.”

  He picked up a bit of cheese. While watching his hand rise to his mouth, she remembered his fingers trailing over her neck and throat, and the sensations caused by his touch that had delighted and tempted her. And when he’d lightly grazed her collarbone with his teeth—

  She inhaled quickly and looked away.

  “Several times I almost did die,” Garrett said. “When my father perished from sickness, and crown officials were unable to contact me in France to inform me I had inherited, they assumed I had been killed and declared me dead. ’Twas the most efficient option, for it allowed them to award the keep to another lord.”

  She frowned. “You returned to England. The crown knew then that they had made a mistake and that you are alive.”

  “The king and his advisors are aware of the situation. The sovereign offered to cede my sire’s castle back to me, but I declined.”

  “Declined?” To ensure he kept talking, she took a piece of bread. “Why would you turn down what is rightfully yours?”

  “My sire and I…were not on good terms. I did not feel entitled to become ruler of his castle after the terrible things I had said to him.” Garrett had shared the pain of his mother’s abandonment and his bitter argument with his sire with Addy years ago; once again, anguish flickered in his eyes. “Moreover, I have no desire to govern a keep.”

  She broke apart the bread. “Why not?”

  He shrugged, the movement far from indolent. “I do not want to spend my days in that manner.”

  That could well be true, but she sensed there was another, more compelling reason he hadn’t shared with her. Every nobleman aspired to owning a fortress and lands; ’twas what all lords dreamed of achieving.

  “If I change my mind and decide I want a keep,” he added, “the king will grant me one for my years of service to him. I need only ask.”

  How daunting to know he was on such close terms with the sovereign, especially when her sire had spoken out against the king. Yet, she still couldn’t quite believe Garrett wouldn’t want a castle. As ruler, he’d earn respect and power—things he’d wanted very much when he was younger.

  “If you do not mind my asking, how do you earn a living?”

  “I earn it by my sword.”

  She finished chewing some bread. “Are you are a mercenary, then? A knight for hire?”

  “I am.”

  That meant someone had paid him to abduct her. Why? Ignoring an inner cry for caution, she asked, “Who hired you?”


  Wariness etched his features. “I cannot say.”

  She couldn’t let him elude her. Not when she’d finally got him talking. “Was it one of my father’s enemies?”

  “I will not—”

  “Is someone trying to manipulate my father through me?”

  “Addy.”

  She shivered as he said her name. His tone had assumed a similar huskiness years ago when they’d secretly met in a stairwell. He’d pinned her against the wall and had passionately kissed her, his hands in her hair, his tongue thrusting into her mouth again and again, before they’d heard someone else enter the stairwell. Afraid of being discovered, they’d hurried on separate ways, but she’d never forget that that wondrous tryst. “Why will you not tell me who hired you?”

  “’Twas part of the agreement I made.”

  Honor, then, assured his silence. Did their long-ago love mean naught to him? She struggled and failed to keep her voice steady. “Your agreement—the coin you have been or will be paid—is more important to you than I am?”

  A muscle leapt in his jaw.

  “You cared about me once.” It might not be fair to draw upon their past relationship, but she needed to learn what she could from him. Her life could depend on it.

  “I did care about you,” he agreed.

  “In the tailor’s shop, why did you not reveal who you really are?”

  “I did not see any point in you knowing.”

  “Mother Mary!”

  “I was, after all, declared dead.”

  Anger and hurt threatened to overwhelm her. “I vow you did not reveal yourself to me because you are ashamed.”

  “Addy—”

  “Kidnapping is a crime punishable by law. That is why you wanted to remain anonymous. Snatch me, hold me hostage, do whatever else you were hired to do, and then vanish, never to be seen in Cornwall again.”

  He released a huffed breath. “What difference would it have made, for you to know I was alive?”

  I loved you! “At the very least, I would have told you what you were doing was wrong.”

  His eyes flashed.

  “I would have encouraged you to go to the authorities. That would be the right thing to do.”

  Garrett laughed softly, the sound brittle. “Would it? You know naught—”

  “I know honor—true honor—was important to you once.”

  “It still is,” he ground out. “Being honorable, though, is not always a simple matter.”

  She set down her bread, and her chair squealed on the plank floor as she stood. “How is there honor in abducting a lady?”

  “By agreeing to kidnap you, I ensured you were not abducted by someone else.”

  “Someone—?”

  “A brutal thug I did not want anywhere near you.”

  Did Garrett really expect her to believe he’d acted to protect her? His words, though, also indicated he hadn’t been hired by a stranger. He knew the man or men who’d arranged her kidnapping…which meant she had more to glean from him. However, she must be careful that she didn’t drive him away.

  “Can you tell me how long I will be a prisoner?” she asked.

  “I will do what was agreed.”

  “Does that mean days? Sennights?”

  Shaking his head, he turned away.

  Nay! He couldn’t walk out now. She grabbed his arm. “You are not leaving.”

  His gaze settled on her hand, then slowly traveled up her arm to her shoulder and face. A dangerous gleam lit his eyes. “You are going to stop me?”

  ***

  Garrett’s entire body went on alert. Her touch…. ’Twas akin to wildfire rushing up his arm and into his torso and stirring up a wave of desire so powerful, he had to stop himself from hauling her into his arms for a kiss.

  Any other woman would have immediately removed her hand. Addy stared back at-him, her grip firm, her chin raised in defiance. She was more beautiful than he’d ever seen her.

  He yearned to touch her. Kiss her. Make her his in all ways.

  But, she would soon be wed to Ransford. Regardless of how Garrett felt about her, ’twould take a miracle to prevent the wedding from happening.

  Garrett narrowed his eyes, telling her without words that she was to release him.

  “You do not frighten me.”

  “You should fear me.”

  A wry smile curved her mouth. “I do not believe you will hurt me.”

  He wouldn’t. But, he mustn’t appear weak. “You obviously do not know me very well.”

  “I know who you were. That gallant man is still within you.”

  He inwardly flinched, but managed to keep his menacing expression intact.

  Her eyes softened with anguish and resolve. “Garrett, please—”

  “Let go of my arm,” he snarled.

  “Let me help you!”

  “I do not need anyone’s help.”

  “I do not believe that. Whatever trouble you are in—”

  He jerked his arm away, but her fingers clenched into his sleeve. He stilled, unwilling to tear his tunic, for he didn’t own many clothes. Releasing him, she swiftly claimed the distance between them to stand shockingly close.

  Her nearness taunted him. Her scent teased him. God’s bones, how her beauty tempted him, and he curled his hands against the agonizing need to embrace her.

  Gently, she touched his cheek. “Garrett,” she murmured.

  Move away, his mind screamed. But, his body refused to listen. Every part of him craved that incredible love he’d had with her years ago.

  “Garrett,” she whispered, her finger trailing along his jaw line as though she strove to discover who he was now.

  Her finger slid over his skin to touch his lips. Warning buzzed at the back of his mind, but before he could jerk away, she rose on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.

  Ah, God.

  Heat. Softness. Pleasure. Sensations rushed through him, so intense, he groaned. Overwhelmed by his feelings, he caught hold of her elbows and tried to shove her away, but she buried her hands into the front of his tunic and held firm. Her mouth continued to move against his in exquisite temptation.

  Torment warred with desire. He didn’t deserve her affection. He didn’t deserve her. Yet, part of him clung to the love and light she offered so selflessly.

  Push her aside. Curtail the kiss. As he reached to do just that, his traitorous arms instead slid around her to hold her close, while their mouths glided together. The warmth and light within him grew steadily stronger.

  A knock sounded on the door. He pulled away from Addy.

  “Garrett.”

  He’d told Corwin not to come up to the tower. The boy wouldn’t have disobeyed, unless he’d had very good reason. “Aye?”

  “You are wanted below,” the lad said from outside the chamber.

  Bloody hell. Had Ransford come for a visit? Why right before nightfall?

  Her lips reddened from their kissing, Addy looked surprised. “That voice belonged to a child.”

  A sense of imminent danger plagued Garrett as he straightened his tunic and then headed for the door.

  “The boy who just spoke. Is he your squire?” she asked. “Your son?”

  Without glancing back, Garrett said, “I will explain later.”

  ***

  Addy dropped down onto the bed and pressed her fingers to her lips. She slowly curled her hand into a fist, as though to capture what was left of Garrett’s kiss and save it forever.

  She’d been bold to kiss him—far bolder than any betrothed maiden should be—but she’d wanted to reach the Garrett she’d loved. The hardened warrior he was now had resisted, but she’d refused to let him get away easily. Their love had been honest and true, and she’d drawn upon that honesty and truth to call forth the gentle, kind, noble lord to whom she’d lost her heart. As she’d believed, she’d glimpsed her Garrett. She’d tasted him in their kiss.

  Hope warmed her, for she must use that connection further. He might be more gu
arded on his next visit to the tower, but she mustn’t be deterred. She must convince him to do what was right: to let her go and to give up information on those responsible for her abduction. It might be difficult, but she had to do it, for other lives, as well as her own, could be in peril.

  Her hands knotted together in her lap. Still, she felt the wool of his tunic against her palms. Still, she felt the heat of his torso beneath her hands. Still, her skin tingled from the joy of his kisses.

  What sinful feelings…but, she was glad of them. For the first time in many days, she had a purpose. She was going to rescue Garrett.

  ***

  “What is so important?” Garrett asked, while he hung up the key. The lad was fidgeting, a sure sign that all wasn’t well.

  “Stockton is in the great hall. He told me I had to find you right away.”

  Damnation. “What does he want?”

  “I do not know, for he would not tell me. He said he must speak to you.”

  Why had Ransford sent Stockton? His lordship must have known ’twas a risky thing to do. Addy’s guards, along with any townsfolk they’d drawn into the search, would be looking for her. What if the thug had been followed?

  “Come,” Garrett said. The boy close behind him, they descended the stairs.

  Stockton, stuffing bread into his mouth, stood by the hearth. Chewing noisily, he glanced over his shoulder as they neared.

  “Why are you here?” Garrett demanded. Corwin hovered behind him, clearly afraid of the lout.

  “Yer uncle sent me ta check on ye.” As Stockton spoke, bits of food flew from his mouth. He wiped his chin with the sleeve of his cloak.

  “Your visit was unnecessary—”

  “Do ye ’ave the lady?”

  “Of course I have her.”

  “’Ave ye done as ’is lordship asked?”

  Perverse excitement threaded through the lout’s words, which only added to Garrett’s unease. If he admitted he hadn’t injured Addy, would Stockton go up to the tower and hurt her? Garrett would rather die than see Addy mistreated. “You can tell Ransford I am upholding my part of our arrangement.”

  “I will.” Turning away from the fire to face them, Stockton picked at his teeth.

  “Is there aught else?” The sooner this oaf left, the better.