These past months, he had thought she gathered her nerve to ask for his protection. Not as a lover. As a warrior to stand between her and any male who sought favors she didn’t want to give. Now, she boldly sought him as a man between her thighs. He grasped her wrists to remove her hands from his shoulders. She stopped him with her pleading. “I will be most discrete. I vow I will not come between ye and Lady Catalin. I do not seek love from ye, nor do I wish gifts for my favors. Ye will have no need of yer mask, for yer scars add strength to a face more comely than most. I will wield no ties to bind ye. Should yer seed take, mayhap ye could find a warrior to be a husband to me.” Releasing his shirt, she ran her hands down his arms. She studied his face, though he didn’t know what she saw there, if anything. When he did not venture to embrace her, he noted the moment she changed from hesitation to determination. She rose on her toes, and as she molded her body to his, the soft mounds of her breasts brushed over his pounding heart.
