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A gypsy had grabbed a hold of Josephine, holding her tightly as he dragged her in Andrew’s direction.

The subject of a price came up again, clearly meant for her.

Andrew’s eyes were locked on her as if he had never seen her before but, in truth, it was an expression that Josephine would always remember.

There was great interest there… and great confidence.

But Josephine was quivering with fright, with anger, and was still trying to understand why Andrew wasn’t helping her.

But when she got past that expression on his face, she realized that he wasn’t dressed in his usual style.

He was without any protection at all, not even his broadsword.

Instead, he was clad in heavy leather breeches and big boots.

His linen tunic was open down his broad chest, revealing his tanned, slightly hairy skin beneath.

She’d only ever seen him in mail, so to see him so casually dressed was something of a surprise. And, if she admitted it, pleasurable.

The man’s male beauty was unsurpassed.

Yet, her opinion of his comeliness didn’t stop her anger.

There was still great confusion and angst. When the gypsy man brought her to a halt, Andrew came towards her as if to inspect her as a prize, stopping inches from her as his eyes raking over her curvaceous form.

When his gaze came to rest upon hers again, Josephine thought she might start shouting obscenities at him again, but nothing seemed to come forth.

Something in that intense gaze was mesmerizing.

But in his eyes, she saw something else, something that brought her anger to cool.

Somehow, she saw protection, loyalty, and gentleness in the clear brown depths.

Whatever she had initially thought about his presence here, she knew she was wrong.

Down to her heart she knew it. He was here, and he was here to help… but how?

What was he planning?

There was more confusion in her heart now.

How had he known she was even in trouble?

She’d run off so quickly that no one knew where she’d gone, but Andrew evidently did.

Perhaps he’d even followed her. Her eyes must have relayed her confusion, for she saw his face soften slightly.

His eyes began to glimmer, with a message only for her if she dared look hard enough to read it…

Do not fear, my lady.

Andrew did, indeed, see Josephine’s expression.

It was hard not to see it on her innocent face.

He knew how frightened she was and he felt mounting rage at the gypsies for bringing the fear upon her.

He tried very hard to convey comfort to her and he began to see that she understood him.

That was good. But the anger he felt at the situation was something he wrestled with, and he suppressed the feeling, for it could very well jeopardize what he was trying to accomplish.

He was, in fact, playing a role and he had to be convincing. He was a buyer and she was his prospective possession. He put a hand up, grasping Josephine’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He turned her face from side-to-side, inspecting her.

“She is exquisite,” he said finally. “Where did you find her?”

Daume came to him. “Eli found her in the woods,” he said. “She claims to be the mistress of the nearby fortress.”

“Indeed?” Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “Take the gag from her mouth.”

Daume nodded to the man holding Josephine, who complied. The gag fell away and Josephine licked her lips, again looking to Andrew. He smiled seductively at her.

“What’s your name, lass?” he asked.

As she looked at him doubtfully, he prayed to God that she would be smart enough to play the game. There was something in his expression beseeching her to understand what he was trying to do. Not really knowing the woman, he wasn’t sure if she’d be sharp enough to understand.

Fortunately for them both, she was.

“Josephine de Carron,” she said. “I am Lady Ayr.”

“How old are you?” he asked.

“I have seen nineteen summers.”

He cocked his head at her. “I like them younger.”

Josephine’s eyes blazed. Before she could stop herself, she retorted. “That is probably because an older woman is smart enough to know about the likes of you!”

The group of gypsies gasped, Daume coughed, and Thane and Andrew laughed out loud.

“She has spirit!” Andrew announced, then turned to Daume. “I must have her. How much will you take?”

Daume looked surprised, but quickly his mind began to churn. “To be truthful,” he said to Andrew, “I was plannin’ to keep her myself. She is just my taste.”

Andrew put his hand on Daume’s shoulder. “Come, come my friend,” he said. “You have many women in your camp. My brother and I are alone with no companionship. Surely we can agree on a price.”

Daume was reluctant to part with his trophy but Andrew pressed the point.

He began to point at Josephine, scrutinizing her.

“She is not so grand a prize after all,” he said.

“Look at her; she is small and pale and is bad-natured. Do you really want her with your people, causing problems? You know that she will only be trouble to you. I will pay you to take her off your hands.”

Daume was fairly limited in his intelligence. He couldn’t see beyond the moment and, at the moment, money for this captured woman was very appealing. With a long glance at Josephine as if to confirm what Andrew had said, he looked at the muscular, auburn-haired man.

“Two hundred marks,” he said finally.

Andrew didn’t miss a beat as he motioned to Thane. Outwardly, he appeared highly confidant, but inwardly he was praying that Thane had enough money with him. He then caught the expression on Thane’s face as the man approached; he didn’t have enough. So Andrew turned his head to Josephine.

She was looking at him openly, her big eyes wide with apprehension.

What was he going to do next? She didn’t have to wait long for an answer because in four long strides he was directly in front of her.

Any closer and he would be standing in her shoes.

Her head was tilted far back as she looked up into his eyes with uncertainty and, perhaps, with a little fear.

She had no idea as to what he was going to do, or how he was going to rescue her from the clutches of these outlaws.

But looking into his eyes, she knew instinctively to trust him.

Unspoken words passed between them and her heart calmed.

In truth, she had little choice.

Andrew’s entire body was trembling as he stood ever so close to her.

He’d felt the same way when he’d held her while she’d been ill and the attraction he’d felt to her had nearly overwhelmed him.

God’s Bones, she was so beautiful. Thank God, Daume was more interested in money than in her.

Now, he regretted what he was about to do.

But it was necessary.

Josephine’s hands were still bound so she offered no resistance as Andrew’s hand entwined in her hair and yanked her head back savagely. She yelped in pain and surprise, but was cut off as his mouth clamped over hers. But before his lips touched her, she heard him utter two words.

“Forgive me.”

Andrew’s lips were hard and insisting, bruising her soft lips.

Josephine tried to pull away, but his hand in her hair made that impossible.

The kiss became stronger and deeper, his tongue prying her lips open and licking the soft, pink insides of her mouth.

Had she not been so frightened, she might have enjoyed it, for it wasn’t in any way repulsive.

But his grip on her head scared her, and her mind began to race.

He’d begged for her forgiveness, but for what?

What he was doing or what he was about to do?

In a surge of panic, she bit down with her sharp teeth on his lower lip.

Andrew didn’t utter a sound, but he pulled back with a start. His eyes were wide with surprise as he tasted his own blood. His gaze lingered on her a moment, as if to ask her why she bit him, but he already knew why. He took a step back and, with his eyes still lingering on her, he spoke.

“She is not worth two hundred marks,” he stated.

Turning abruptly, he marched over to Thane and jerked his head sideways in a silent command to follow him.

With Josephine and Daume looking on, surprised with the swift motion, Thane fell in behind his commander and began to follow him away from the fire.

Daume began to sputter and looked back to his group for support, thinking he’d just lost a good deal of money, when Josephine took a couple of steps forward and began to follow Andrew as he walked away.

She was sorry! She had been frightened and reacted the only way she could think of. Oh, Andrew, please do not leave me… please!

“Andrew!” she cried.

Andrew froze and Thane almost plowed into the back of him. Both men turned around slowly, with Andrew slower than Thane. The expression on his face was unreadable, but Thane looked like a child who just got caught stealing sweetcakes. Guilt was written all over him.

But Daume wasn’t looking at the men; he was looking at Josephine. He didn’t look suspicious, only terribly confused. He scowled at her.

“Andrew? Who is Andrew?” he demanded.

Josephine was on the verge of tears of frustration and of fear. She had destroyed Andrew’s rescue plan with one word; God help her, she knew that. Whatever came now, she deserved. She wouldn’t blame him if he simply walked away. She looked at Daume, her mouth working.

“He… I mean he…” she stuttered. “He looks like someone I knew once. I do not know why I said that. I am mistaken.”