Crushed against him, she could barely move. Her face was buried into the front of his tunic. The scents of fresh air, leather, and man again filled her senses. For some idiotic reason, all she could think of was Garrett.
This man wasn’t Garrett. He couldn’t be. Garrett was dead.
She tamped down her bewilderment and torment and turned her head against the hard muscle of his shoulder. Her hands clawed into his woolen garment, and she dug her fingers into his ribs, trying to dislodge him, but he was bloody big and strong. He remained steadfast, his breaths warming the crown of her hair.
She stamped on his booted foot, but that didn’t seem to affect him at all.
At last, she sighed. Her shoulders slumped.
“Have you finished fighting?”
“Mayhap,” she snapped. “Swine.” That oath had been one of Garrett’s favorites.
“How your insult wounds me, milady.” Her captor didn’t sound insulted; he sounded as if he was trying not to laugh. “Unless you are certain you are done fighting, though, I will remain here.”
“I am finished.”
He eased away, but only enough to let her breathe easily.
“You can move away now,” she said frostily. Being so intimately close to him, feeling the heat of his broad body against hers, was causing the oddest sensations to course through her. “You should see to the fallen torch before it starts a fire.”
“No need. The torch has gone out.”
Disappointment wove through her. She’d hoped he’d try and pick it up. Then she could have shoved him to the floor and bolted.
“If I step away, will you run for the door?”
Aye, at the first chance I get.
He must have read her answer in her expression. “You would be foolish to try,” he warned. “Even if you got out the door, you would never make it down the stairwell. You will not escape me.”
Addy refused to acknowledge the challenge in his tone. Giving him the stoniest look she could muster, she remained silent.
Slowly, his gaze skimmed down her face to her lips.
Her stomach somersaulted, for he was looking at her in that familiar way again; the way Garrett had gazed upon her just before he kissed her.
“Move away,” she bit out.
“’Twould not be wise. Not when I sense you have not really yielded.”
How did he know her so well? She averted her gaze.
She startled at the press of his hand on her cheek. With his thumb, he forced her chin up until her gaze met his again. Oh, mercy, how she ached inside at the feel of his flesh against hers. Why did she feel this way? She didn’t understand, and that only served to make her even more angry. “Do not touch me—”
“I thought to be chivalrous with you,” he cut in, his thumb stroking her skin. “I gave you freedom to move around this chamber as you wished, but I can easily take that freedom away.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“I have rope, milady. I can bind your hands and feet.”
“You would not dare!”
“Oh, I would dare.”
***
Garrett could hardly believe what he was saying. Yet, he had to frighten Addy, and not just because of his agreement with Ransford. The rebelliousness he’d discovered within her years ago that had drawn him to her was as strong as ever—and he’d never forgive himself if she did something rash and got hurt or fell to her death fleeing down the cliffs by the castle.
As they stared at one another, locked in a war of wills, his hand still cupping her cheek, he wished he could tell her that soon, she’d be released unharmed and her captivity would be no more than an unpleasant memory. Even if he did deign to tell her, he doubted she’d believe him.
Her face had gone pale. “If you try to bind me, I swear—”
“You will not attack me again.”
He’d used a similar tone to command soldiers in France. He expected her to swiftly nod her agreement, but instead, her expression remained defiant.
“You will not try to escape again. Aye?”
“Why would I agree to that condition?”
“Milady—”
“I know you are a nobleman. No lord sworn to uphold chivalry and honor would ever consider binding a lady, or imprisoning her, for that matter.”
He raised his brows.
“You know I am right.”
She was. The last thing he’d do was restrain her; he couldn’t bear the thought of rope burns on her skin. However, he was not going to let her draw his focus from making her cooperate. “We are not discussing my honor—”
“Mayhap we should be.”
In one deliberate step, he claimed the distance between them again and pinned her against the wall. He forced her chin to tilt, until the back of her head grazed the stonework.
She shivered in his hold, but her eyes flashed with fury. “Unhand me.”
“I will, once you agree to my terms.”
“To your orders, you mean. I am not a servant, bound to do your bidding.”
“I am well aware you are not.” Standing this close, he was exquisitely cognizant of just how sweet-scented, softly curved, and utterly desirable she was. “That does not change what I expect from you.”
“If you were being held captive, would you not try to escape? Would you not consider it a matter of honor to get away, to spare the friends and family you dearly love from unnecessary anguish and hardship?” Her voice shook. “If you have even the slightest shred of honor, you will acknowledge that what you have done to me, what you have threatened to do to me, is very wrong…and you will release me.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, for her words stung. Honor was the primary reason he’d agreed to Ransford’s reckless plan to abduct her. Without chivalry to guide him, he’d never have survived on his own. “You are unwise to speak so carelessly,” he grated between his teeth. “I am an honorable man—”
“I do not believe it.”
Garrett’s heart constricted. She’d believed in him once. Completely.
“Prove to me that you are chivalrous,” she insisted. “Release me.”
“Cease,” he snarled. “I am not letting you go. I promise you, if I did not believe in gallantry, we would not be standing this close and merely talking.”
“What would we be doing?” As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes widened, as though she wished she hadn’t been so bold.
She had been, though. And now, she’d face the consequences.
“You and I would not be—”
Garrett pressed his thumb over her lips, silencing the rest of her words. As her startled exhalation warmed his fingers, he leaned in and covered her mouth with his.
Chapter Six
Addy froze at the press of his lips. Shock whipped through her, and she tried to wrench away, but the wall prevented all but the slightest movement. Her captor’s grip on her tightened, while his mouth moved over hers.
How curious that his kisses weren’t harsh or cruel, as she’d expected. His beard tickled her skin, and his kisses were demanding and full of passion, but also tender. She sensed that he was seeking something from her. What, though? Some kind of acknowledgement?
Nay, she must be wrong. This man was a conqueror. He was using a kiss—an intimacy that should be precious, glorious, and shared by two people who cared for one another—to make her surrender.
Addy squeezed her eyes closed and remained very still. She would not respond to him; he’d grow bored and leave.
In the self-imposed darkness, though, she became even more acutely aware of him, of the heat of his lips and his scent that for some reason teased up memories of when she’d had few worries and responsibilities.
Of when she’d been in love.
Of when Garrett had kissed her exactly like this man was kissing her now.
His mouth nibbled her bottom lip, and forbidden heat shot through her to her most private of places. Oh, mercy, but she hated this man. She shouldn’t enjoy what he was doing.
She mustn’t. ’Twas a betrayal of all she’d shared with Garrett.
But, her captor seemed to know just how to glide his mouth over hers, how to stir up treasured feelings she’d locked away forever when Garrett had left her.
“Nay,” she moaned softly.
A husky growl, a sound of pride and satisfaction, rumbled from him.
A sob welled in her throat. How could she imagine this man’s kiss was anything like Garrett’s? ’Twas wrong. Wrong!
The sob broke from her. “Garrett,” she whispered, the name ripped from her soul.
Her captor went very still.
He lifted his mouth from hers, and she opened her eyes. He stared down at her, his expression an odd mix of disbelief and fury, as though in the midst of their kissing she’d delivered him a fatal blow.
“What did you say?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.
Embarrassment brought a stinging blush to her cheeks. She should never have dishonored Garrett’s memory by speaking his name, especially not when she was being kissed by a criminal.
Unless this man is Garrett.
Unless he didn’t die, as you were told.
Her captor released her and stepped back. Numbing shock whipped through her, for despite his beard and the creases at the corners of his eyes, his features did resemble Garrett’s. His eyes were the same hazelnut brown hue, but there was none of the teasing warmth she remembered in his gaze, only the coldness of a man whose life had been difficult and unforgiving.
Could this man be Garrett? Her Garrett, but now years older?
Or was he just a man who strongly resembled the one she’d loved?
She didn’t know what to think.
Confusion clawed up inside her, and she dashed to the opposite side of the room, as far away from him as possible. When she glanced back at him, he was at the door, his back facing her. His hand on the iron handle, he yanked the panel open.
“Wait.”
His shoulders visibly tensed, and his head raised a notch in acknowledgment that she’d spoken.
“Tell me your name.” If he admitted he was indeed Garrett—
He walked out.
***
She knew. God’s blood, she knew.
On the landing outside the chamber, Garrett hung the key back on the peg near the door. With a harsh sigh, he braced his hand on the stone wall, leaned forward, and set his forehead to the back of his hand. “Damnation.”
His eyes burned, and not from the smoke from the flaming torches that was trapped in the close space. Kissing Addy had been a mistake. He should never have indulged his desire and dared to see whether their kiss would be as remarkable as he’d remembered.
It had been.
He wanted to still be kissing her now.
She’d tasted of all the promises he’d made to her years ago. Kissing her had reminded him that the days with her had been the brightest moments of his entire life.
Hell, he’d intended only one quick kiss—because he could—but when their mouths had touched, his lips had remembered every delicious nuance of their kisses. One kiss was far from enough. He’d needed her, suddenly starved for what they’d had before; he’d been caught up in a flood of sensations so glorious, so full of joy and hope, he’d been lost. In his life that was filled with darkness, in that instant, he’d tasted the purest light.
He’d shown her a glimpse of his soul—the true Garrett—and she’d recognized it.
Fool. You vowed not to let her see what you have become. Now, there is no turning back.
He straightened, dragging his hand over his still-burning eyes, and struggled to quell the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. All was not lost. He hadn’t confirmed he was her Garrett. He didn’t have to tell her the truth, not now, not ever. He could leave her wondering, the anguish of her uncertainty enriching the plan to frighten and unsettle her before Ransford rescued her.
Even as those thoughts crossed Garrett’s mind, he scowled, for his sense of honor objected. No woman deserved to be deceived or treated in such a fashion. He’d taken a knight’s oath to live an honorable life, to abide by the rules of chivalry, and he’d vowed to be a good example of a father for Corwin, but what he was doing to Addy was wrong. Disgust roiled inside him, along with resentment for what Ransford had asked him to do.
God above, did he tell Addy the truth and betray his lordship? Or was he wiser to keep his secrets?
If Garrett were honest with himself, though, there was no point in confiding in Addy. She wouldn’t want the man he was now. The young man she’d loved had vanished long ago.
He started down the narrow, spiraling stairs. Down, down he went until he reached the passageway at the bottom of the tower. He headed to the great hall.
Corwin rose from where he’d been sitting by the hearth. With the chicken pie he’d been eating in one hand, a piece of bread in the other, the lad gestured to the loaf, wedge of cheese, and eating dagger set out on a cloth on the trestle table.
“Thank you, but I am not hungry,” Garrett said.
The lad frowned. “What is wrong with you?”
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 w
ill 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.
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