Page 32 of Ensnaring the Dove
He’d been unnecessarily brusque with her. It was unfair to punish her. After all, he’d initiated the kiss, not her. “Sorry,” he muttered again. “I’m not myself this morning.”
Colombia’s mouth tightened a fraction, the grey of her eyes deepening to the color of storm clouds. “Neither of us is,” she replied.
It was a silent journey northwest.
Colombia didn’t mind. She walked a few yards behind Aedan, content to retreat into her own thoughts. In truth, ever since that kiss, her senses had been reeling. She was trying to make sense of her own reaction to the Brigante warrior who was taking her to safety.
I shouldn’t be surprised at my response,she told herself as she picked up her skirts to clamber over a large, lichen-covered rock that blocked their path. After all, she’d been acutely aware of her growing attraction to her protector.
But even as she tried to rationalize things, even as she tried to put that sensual embrace out of her mind, a treacherous voice whispered to her.
Linus doesn’t kiss like that.
Linus doesn’t look at you like that.
Swallowing hard, she balled her hands into fists at her sides and plowed doggedly on after Aedan. Enough. She wouldn’t let her thoughts linger on a fantasy. Instead, she needed to focus on what was real.
On the man she’d promised herself to, and on the world she’d soon be part of once more.
This journey with Aedan was like stepping out of time. With him, she was someone else, and for a few moments, she’d let herself forget.
But it would be risky to do so again.
Jaw set, she marched after Aedan while the sun warmed her back and the breeze ruffled her hair. It was a relief to feel herselfagain. The fever had weakened her and clouded her mind—as had that heady kiss.
They soon left the rocky valley behind and walked over grassy, windswept hills.
But despite Colombia’s resolution to put their embrace behind her, she soon weakened. Memories of the heat of Aedan’s mouth, the feel of his body pressed against hers, kept returning to torment her. That kiss shouldn’t have happened, but that fact only made excitement flutter low in Colombia’s belly.
The Gods forgive her, she longed to taste him again.
The morning drew out, and at noon they rested on the banks of a glittering burn. Clear water ran through peaty soil, and they drank thirstily. Initially, Colombia had been nervous to drink from rivers, without boiling the water first; but since they were on the run, and couldn’t ensure the water was clean before drinking, they had no choice.
Aedan seemed confident they wouldn’t sicken, and she trusted him.
Colombia’s pulse quickened then. Yes, she did trust him. Implicitly.
It hadn’t started off that way. Initially, she’d been afraid he’d turn on her once he got her to safety. But it hadn’t taken her long to realize he meant her no harm. Instead, he’d become her protector. And then, once she’d relaxed in his company, she’d become aware of the pull between them.
An awareness that was now intensifying.
Pushing aside the vivid memory of how she’d boldly grazed his lower lip with her teeth, Colombia cupped the cool water in her hands and took another gulp. She then glanced over her shoulder at where Aedan sat on the bank above her. “Will we be sleeping rough again tonight?” she asked, breaking the long silence between them. Curse it, her voice was far too breathy.
His mouth quirked. “No, we’re making better progress than I thought … and should reach Coria by nightfall.” He paused then. “It’s a fort just under three miles south of the Wall, set at the junction of two major roads.”
Colombia’s spine straightened, surprise creeping over her. “We’ll reach the Wall tonight?”
He shook his head. “We’ll walk the last stretch to Onnum tomorrow morning.” Aedan pushed himself up then and climbed to his feet, dusting himself off. “I suggest that when we arrive at Coria, we pretend to both be Britons.” His gaze traveled over her before resting on her face once more. “Your looks can pass as local.”
Colombia nodded. Her mother’s family had hailed from Rhaetia, a province north of the alps that bordered Italia. She was far paler than the dark-haired, tanned relatives on her father’s side of the family.
“But since you don’t speak Briton, it’s best you keep silent when we get to Coria,” Aedan continued.
“Wise idea,” Colombia replied. Turning, she climbed the bank toward him. “I’d rather not draw attention to myself until I get to the Wall.”
Aedan watched her approach, his gaze hooded. “A woman like you will never go unnoticed,” he replied, voice lowering, “but if the soldiers at Coria think you’re my Briton wife, they should let us pass unmolested.”
Heat flushed over Colombia’s chest. She hadn’t realized they were going to pose as husband and wife at the fort. At Achwig, everyone had thought them lovers, but pretending to be married was something else. Her breathing grew shallow then as it dawned on her that she liked the idea. Even if it was a fantasy, she found herself imagining what it would be like to belong to this man.