blood flow.
Lóchrann leaned into her a bit, shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, hip to hip. Warmth that had nothing to do with the fire touched her skin.
“Are you tired?” she asked.
“I’ve slept enough, aye? An eternity.”
“I suppose,” she answered, all too aware of the size of him beside her. He felt so big, so present. It seemed as if the hut was full of him. Lóchrann’s form was so tall and brawny, a man with a handsome face and a tough body. How had she ever managed to move him? she wondered, even as a strange pride filled her. The arm touching hers was hard with muscle, making her very aware of her own thin build and lack of defenses.
She’d saved this man’s life.
He swore she was safe with him because of it. Olwyn relaxed further. Yes, she believed him.
Olwyn cast a sidelong glance his way. Spotting it, he met her eyes for a brief moment before looking away.
“I suppose we could get to know each other a bit,” Lóchrann offered. “I know nothing of you but your name.”
He shifted his blankets and she felt the press of his thigh against her own. She thought of when he’d been unconscious, and how she’d lain with him to warm his body with her own. It had been practical then. Now, however, practicality was the furthest thing from her mind.
“There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid,” Olwyn said, and felt a kick of pride at how calm she sounded, as if she had nothing at all to be embarrassed about, and as if touching a man were the most natural thing in the world. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
The question was more than just a polite invitation for him to make conversation. Lord, she wanted to know everything, she realized. She wanted to know who he was, where he lived, what sort of life he’d made for himself. Was he married, did he have children? What had he been like as a child? Favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite books. She wanted every bit of it, and more.
Mentally she taunted herself. So needy, Olwyn. How desperate. How pathetic.
She had, quite obviously, been lonesome for far too long a time.
There came a long pause. He seemed to be weighing his response.
“Same here. Nothing to tell, really.” Lóchrann laughed a bit, a rueful sound. “Surely we both can’t be this uninteresting.”
He’s hiding something, she thought. Well, wasn’t everyone in some way or another?
“How about you tell me where you’re traveling to,” Lóchrann said.
The rain found tiny slips to filter through, dripping to the floor to form tiny puddles. A small drop plopped on her shoulder, and she scooted slightly over, closer to the fire.
Olwyn deflected Lóchrann’s suggestion with one of her own. “We should choose a neutral topic. Aren’t they usually about the weather and road conditions?” He turned again to meet her eyes. This time, he held her gaze, lambent flames reflected in his lambent eyes, a mesmerizing sight if she’d ever seen one.
“I despise chatter,” he replied mildly.
She laughed nervously. “Well, now I know something about you.”
“Aye, you do. If the conversation’s to be such drivel, let’s just not have it.”
“I have a better idea,” she whispered before she could change her mind. Caught in the thrall of his beautiful eyes and his demand for her to choose between truth or silence, she said, “Plain talk, no secrets, no lies, and no equivocation. And when we go our separate ways, we’ll both remember that for the space of a few days, we spoke our minds and we hid nothing. How many people do you think ever really do that? We’ll tell the truth, no matter how ugly, painful, or humiliating.”
He smiled, a long, slow, heart-stopping spread across his face. His face was like a fairy-tale hero of yore, strongly featured, golden, and sensual. He was masculine and yet beautiful, putting her in mind of an animal that can exude power, and yet invite a soft touch, all at once.
And the idea that she might be privy to the thoughts behind those eyes stole her breath. If all she had to do was bare her own truths in return, it would be worth the cost.
“That’s quite a suggestion, Olwyn.”
“Yes, isn’t it?” Heat stung her cheeks, regardless of the frigid temperature. A ludicrous thought ran through her mind: humiliation, the cure for freezing to death. But she would not show her embarrassment. She would behave as boldly as the words she had spoken. Mimicking the way he smiled at her, she curved her own lips in what she hoped resembled a dare. “Too forward for your taste, Lóchrann? Perhaps chatter is looking better?”
“So much for the girl who cowered in the corner,” he said with a laugh.
Such a resonant voice he had, pleasing to hear, deep, rich, smooth. His laugh filled the hut, and warmed her to the tips of her ears.
“Who will start?” he asked.
“Because it was my idea, I’ll go first.” She took a deep breath and plunged right into the truth as if it were a bottomless, fathomless pool. “I have not been able to forget that you called me beautiful.”
The look in his eyes shifted, turned thoughtful. “Did you like me saying it?”
“I did.” She feigned only her bravery. Everything else was pure truth, in its rawest form. “But it frightened me, too.”
“Why did it?”
“I am not sure,” she whispered. “Perhaps because I wanted it to be true, but also I feared that you said it only to manipulate me.”
“In truth, I find it hard to keep from staring.”
Olwyn dropped her eyes to her lap where her hands were tightly clasped. Lóchrann touched her chin with his forefinger and thumb, gently tilted her face back up.
“Don’t hide.”
“I think it is your turn,” she whispered.
“Very well, I’ll tell you something real. I thought I’d awoken in another time. ’Tis why I asked you the year.” Lóchrann’s expression changed, turned pensive for the barest second. His voice grew very quiet, and never breaking his gaze, he said, “I wasn’t sure what answer I wanted to hear more.”
“Do you not like your life as it is?”
He shrugged, lifted his hand, and then dropped it. “A new life has a certain appeal.”
“So if it had been true, and you’d awoken in another time, what sort of man would you recreate yourself as?”
“A swordsman—I’m good with a blade. Perhaps a soldier, then.” He thought about it further. “No. Not that. Maybe what I’d really want is to live on a mountain somewhere, far from civilization. Build a cottage, have dogs and horses, hunt with hawks. Grow a garden, live simply. Most of all, be free. Completely and totally free.” He smiled at his own fancy, and added, “Of course, I’d have to try to lure a woman into thinking it romantic so she’d stay with me. I’d want to live simply, but not as a monk.”
“You aren’t married, now?”
“No. Not yet. I’m engaged to be. We are set to be married this June.”
“Oh.” Why should that surprise her? she wondered. She tried not to show her disappointment. After all, she mocked herself, did she really think a man like Lóchrann would be unattached? Women must throw themselves at him.
Indeed, there was much to recommend him that he had found a woman with whom to settle down. A man such as he could easily have descended into decadence, pursuing only pleasures as they appealed to him.
The woman who’d captured his heart must be someone quite special, Olwyn thought. So why should that make her feel so