Elaine pulled in a hard breath. “How can you be so sure?”

Jerome’s dark eyes moved restlessly over the ground between them, unseeing in thought. “What other reason would de Soules have to speak with Balliol?” he asked. “And to do so in secret, supposedly while on an assignment for the Bruce?”

“But how can you be sure that Edward Balliol even wants the throne?”

Jerome lifted his head and met her gaze. “John Balliol went quietly enough once England’s King Edward turned on him. But some in Scotland will never let go of the idea of ousting the Bruce in favor of an English-sympathizing King. My father is proof of that.”

Cold apprehension slithered up her spine, and she pulled her dressing robe closer. Everyone always said that Scots were a stubborn lot unwilling to forgive or forget, but Elaine always took it as a lighthearted jest. Would some in Scotland truly dethrone their own King in favor of a Balliol even after all this time?

“Unlike his father, Edward Balliol is a grasping man, from what I’ve heard,” Jerome went on. “John was content to take the throne, then cede it and flee to France, but Edward has lived under the shame of his father’s failings nigh all his life. We have to assume he is part of de Soules’s plan.”

It was a shocking yet sound deduction from all Elaine knew. “And de Soules is using this mission as an excuse to be in France. To cover the need to meet with Balliol.”

Jerome held her with a grim look. “Aye. And as far as we know, Balliol hasnae turned him away.”

Mindlessly, Elaine walked to the large bed and sank down on its edge. “Gracious,” she breathed.

“It explains why de Soules hasnae made any move against me or the declaration,” Jerome continued. “If he’d truly wanted to destroy it or prevent it from being delivered, he could have stabbed me in the back, or at least attempted to trick me out of it. But the declaration doesnae matter. If aught, it provides a welcome distraction, for while we’ve all been focused on its safe delivery, he’s been working on his true scheme.”

“Then…then what do we do?” Elaine asked. Her head spun with the implications of this revelation. When she’d daydreamed about helping the Bruce’s cause and leading a life of excitement, never had she imagined being thrown in the midst of an attempt to overthrow the King.

When Jerome didn’t answer right away, she looked up to find him watching her, his eyes unreadable.

“We arenae going to do aught. Ye need to return to Scotland. I’ll handle this.”

She bolted up from the bed. “What?”

He closed in on her, encircling her arms with his hands. But though his eyes remained hard, his voice came out surprisingly low and soft.

“Elaine. Ye cannae remain in the middle of this danger. Besides, there isnae a reason anymore to keep pretending we are lovers.”

Pretending. The word slid through her ribs and straight into her heart like a dagger. But she couldn’t lose her wits to emotion now. Not when so much was at stake.

“You make it sound as though I am naught but a burden, an innocent to protect.”

His mouth tightened. “Ye are innocent, and ye’d damn well better believe I’ll protect ye.”

“But you seem to be forgetting that I was the one to alert you to de Soules’s scheme,” she countered. “I am part of this as much as you, Jerome, remember? I won’t simply be shipped back to Scotland as if I’m not.”

“That’s the problem,” he said, his voice drawn. “Ye are a part of this—and I cannae keep ye safe and unravel this plot at the same time.”

“Then don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. Let me help you.”

“Elaine—”

“Nay,” she interrupted feeling her ire rise. “I got myself safely to France, didn’t I? I covered us both with a lie—one that made me look like the most unforgivably foolish girl, I might add. And I’ve helped you at every step to watch de Soules and gather information. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know about him visiting Balliol’s estate.”

Jerome flinched at that and released her arms. Sensing that she approached a victory, she continued.

“Have you even considered what you would tell King Philip if you sent me back to Scotland while you continued on to Avignon? Or what you’ll do with de Soules? How will you get word back to the Bruce about Balliol’s plot? And what will you tell him other than the fact that de Soules and Balliol have been meeting?”

“I take yer point,” Jerome snapped. “There is much to consider, and much to decide. That doesnae mean I’ll leave ye in the midst of this mess, no’ when I—”

He cut off abruptly and spun on his heels, giving her his back.

In that moment, she knew the truth like she knew the contours of her own heart. “You care about me,” she whispered. “And that scares you—not just because you don’t want to see me harmed, but because you don’t want to be vulnerable to being harmed yourself.”

 His broad back was like a wall of unmoving muscle before her, yet the faint sound of his exhale told her she’d struck a nerve.

“It occurs to me,” she began, keeping her voice neutral, “that neither one of us could have come this far alone. I alerted you to de Soules’s plotting, yet you spoke to him that night he rode off to the Balliol estate. And we both likely avoided his suspicion by pretending to be lovesick fools.”

She took a step closer to him, and although he didn’t turn, she knew by the tensing of his shoulders that he was aware of her nearness. “Is it possible that we are better off working together?” she murmured. “That we need each other?”

He turned so swiftly that she started. His hands landed on her hips, steadying her.

“Damn it all, Elaine.” His voice was so rough that she would have mistaken his tone for anger if her gaze hadn’t met his. The rich brown depths of his eyes burned with frustrated desire.

“Dinnae test me. No’ when I’m so close to breaking.”

She drew in a breath, but she couldn’t look away from his scorching stare.

“I know why you are fighting against letting me stay,” she said. “You are afraid I’ll be hurt. But why are you fighting against this?” Carefully, she placed her hand on his chest. His heart hammered wildly against her palm.

He let out a sound that was half-groan, half-growl. “Ye ken why. I cannae risk distraction. I cannae fail.”

“But what of all I just said?” she replied. “We are better together. Stronger. Smarter. Whatever this is between us isn’t a liability, Jerome. It’s a gift.”

“What are ye saying?” he said, his voice haggard and wary.

“That I want you to accept this—that I am part of this mission now, and that we both want…”

For all her boldness a moment before, the words stuck in her throat. A hot blush rose to her face.

“What?” he said, taking a half step closer. Her hand on his chest was the only thing separating their bodies now. “This?”

He slid his fingers into the damp hair at her nape and tipped her head back. Then he brushed his lips against hers. The simple, brief contact was over too quickly, yet it still sent a bold of white-hot need through her.

“Aye,” she mumbled, her eyes drifting closed. She stood frozen, willing him to kiss her again, praying that he would take what she so willingly longed to give.

“And this?”

His mouth closed on hers again, but this time it was a more demanding kiss. His tongue urged her lips apart and delved into the warm recesses of her mouth.

When he pulled away again, she was panting and swaying on her feet.

“Aye.”

He began backing her toward the bed with slow, deliberate steps. She kept her eyes closed, for she was afraid she would see a struggle waging on his hard features against this. Instead, she surrendered her sense of sight, letting him guide her until the backs of her thighs bumped the bed’s high edge.

“Tell me to stop,” he ground out, his fingers sinking into the dressing robe at her waist. “Do it now, Elaine, before we cannae go back.”

“Nay, I won’t.” Slowly, she opened her eyes. But instead of finding hesitation or even doubt on his face, she found a mask of desperate longing. “I want this. I want you.”

In the depths of his dark eyes, she saw something snap. Suddenly he was kissing her, but it wasn’t the restrained brush of lips or even the controlled exploration from a moment before.

Nay, he was claiming her with every heated stroke of his tongue. Elaine’s pulse spiked even as liquid warmth began to pool low in her belly.

Abruptly, he scooped her up, but just as quickly he laid her on the bed, caging her with a muscular arm on either side of her. His mouth found hers again, his kiss commanding and hungry. His hands fumbled with the tie on her dressing robe until it loosened and he peeled it away.

Though the chamber was comfortably warm, Elaine shivered, for the chemise she’d found in the armoire was made of the thinnest imaginable linen, spun so finely as to be nigh transparent.

Jerome pulled back, his lust-drunk gaze drinking her in. “Christ,” he breathed, propping himself above her.

She took advantage of his distraction to pull his shirt from his belt. She dragged it over his head and down his steely arms, savoring the brush of her fingertips along his heated skin.

His hands found his belt buckle, and when it popped open, his plaid unfurled around them. She lifted her head, unabashedly curious to gaze upon him.

But when her eyes fell on his long, rigid manhood, a maidenly blush warmed her cheeks. Still, no amount of virginal shyness would turn her back now. She wanted this too much, wanted to join with him, take him inside her, just as she had already taken him into her heart.

A heartbeat later, all thoughts of nervousness and inhibition fled, for he lowered his head and took the neckline of her chemise between his teeth. When she heard it rip, she squeaked in surprise and grasped his shoulders to halt his destruction, but she might as well have been trying to move stone.

He snatched her hands away, shackling her wrists in each of his large hands and pinning them to the mattress. She understood why a moment later, for when his hot mouth closed on one of her bare nipples, she nigh sprang off the bed like a startled cat.

She writhed beneath his ministrations, futilely clawing at the air with her trapped hands. White-hot pleasure shot from his mouth straight to the aching place between her legs.

“Jerome, please,” she moaned, unsure what she begged for, but knowing only he could give it to her.

One big hand released her wrist to trail down the length of her. Somehow he managed to shove what remained of the chemise away, though in her passion-addled state, Elaine wasn’t sure if he ripped the rest of it away or pushed it up and over her head. Her senses were flooded with the feel of his mouth, the warm weight of his body over hers, the rasp of one callused hand on her bare skin.

Then suddenly that hand touched her between the legs, right where she so desperately ached for him. She arched against him, her knees falling apart wantonly. But she didn’t care. Thought had long fled, and there was naught left but feeling.

“I want to taste ye here,” he rasped, raising his head as he circled her womanhood with the pad of one finger. “I want to taste ye everywhere, but I cannae wait. I need to be inside ye, Elaine.”

“Now, Jerome,” she panted. “Please, now.”

He rolled fully on top of her, positioning his hips between her legs. But just when she felt his cock nudge her opening, he stilled.

“Are ye sure?”

Somehow through the haze of lust, clarity struck her like a rung bell. “I know what I want—you, Jerome. Only you. Now.”

A storm of emotion roiled behind his eyes as he gazed down at her. Slowly, he rocked his hips forward, pushing into her. At first it was only mildly uncomfortable. He was big, though, and as he moved deeper, the dull ache turned into a sharp burn. When she gasped, he froze.

His hand slipped between them and brushed that point of pleasure above her opening. The contact sent a frisson of the old, wonderful heat through her.

“That’s it,” he murmured through clenched teeth as he stroked her.

Her knees loosened around his hips and again she was arching in pleasure even as he began to inch forward once more.

When he was buried to the hilt, he froze again, except for the slow circle of his thumb against that perfect spot between her legs. His short, sharp breaths rasped against her ear, and she realized distantly that he was barely clutching the last shreds of his control. For her.

Some other time, she longed to see Jerome let go, to surrender to the consuming sensations just as she was. But for now, it took all her concentration just to breathe, to bear the aching fullness inside her.

He withdrew slightly, and she suddenly felt empty where she’d been painfully stretched a moment before. When he rocked back into her, the pain began to ebb, to be replaced with hot need. She felt the tension in her body drain away as new waves of pleasure washed her.

With each of his strokes, something built within her, carrying her higher and higher on a rising tide of sensation. Instinctually, she arched up, willing him to take her more completely, to drive her higher still.

Beneath her hands, his shoulder muscles bunched and he muttered a groan against her ear. His thrusts lost their measured pace—which sent her careening over an invisible edge and into pure ecstasy.

The force of her pleasure had her crying out and writhing beneath him. A heartbeat later, even as she rode the wave of sensation, he shuddered and called her name, driving hard and holding himself deep as he, too, found release.

He slumped over her, their panting breaths filling the quiet chamber.

“God, Elaine.” He brushed a few strands of damp hair from her face, his eyes soft in the low light. She gazed up at him, unable to speak or move. She’d known she and Jerome shared a powerful connection, but this had been unlike anything she was prepared for.

As he eased onto the bed beside her, he pulled her against his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin.

“We are bound together in this now,” she murmured, unsure if she meant the mission to save the Bruce from the plot against him, their still-unspoken feelings for each other, or both.

“Aye,” Jerome replied, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “For better or worse.”

She let his words sink in. Some part of him still feared the risks in letting her remain by his side, then—and mayhap the risks to his heart of giving in to his desire.

Elaine could relate. Danger lurked around every corner, but what she feared most were the unknowns that lay between her and Jerome. She hadn’t let herself contemplate what would become of them if they made it through this unscathed—and she went back home to Trellham.

As exhaustion nipped at the edges of her consciousness, his words echoed in her ears. For better or worse. It sounded to her drowsy, tangled mind like the vows of marriage.