“Nay,” she said, slipping beneath his arm and placing a hand upon his chest. “Ye must nay kill them.”
Jankyn looked down at her and she inwardly shivered. His elegant features had sharpened into a look that was chillingly feral. His golden eyes were those of a predator. He held each man several inches off the ground as if they weighed nothing. Then, slowly, his fury began to fade, his features softening slightly, and the snarl that had shaped his sensuous mouth receding.
“Best ye put them down ere someone sees. Aye, and ere they gain enough wits to open their eyes.”
“That is a problem easily solved.”
Efrica winced as he knocked the men’s heads together and tossed them back on the ground. A quick glance at her attackers revealed that they would probably not be seeing anything for quite a while. She was turning back toward Jankyn, prepared to ask him what he was doing there, when he staggered.
“What is wrong?” she demanded, wrapping an arm around his waist to help steady him.
“The sun hasnae set yet,” he replied in a weak voice.
It took Efrica a moment to understand the implications of that. She cursed and started moving him toward the castle. Once within its thick walls, Jankyn recovered enough to respond to her demands and tell her where his chambers were. By the time they got inside his rooms, she was supporting nearly all his weight. He whispered a request for wine as he collapsed upon his bed. One sniff of the wine as she poured him a tankard was enough to tell her why he wanted some. It also reminded her, very strongly, of exactly what the MacNachtons were.
After downing a second tankard of wine, Jankyn fell asleep. Efrica stood beside his bed holding the empty tankard and studied him. His color had improved a little, and asleep, he was once again the darkly beautiful man she had known for three years. She sighed and shook her head. The man who had so swiftly appeared to rescue her, who had tossed her assailants aside like cushions, and who had been ready to slaughter the two men, had been laid low by the soft light of a setting sun.
“My hero,” she muttered and went in search of a chair so that she could watch over him until he recovered.
Two
Efrica smiled faintly as she watched Lachlan and Thomas help each other stand up. They both looked frantically around the garden, then ran as if the devil himself were nipping at their backsides. If they knew the truth about the man who had tossed them around so effortlessly, they would probably be even more terrified. She just wished she could be certain this was the end of the trouble she would have with them.
Leaving the window, she poured herself a little of the untreated wine Jankyn obviously kept on hand for guests, and returned to her seat by his bed. David had briefly appeared and, after hearing what had happened, had offered to sit with his father, but she had sent him on his way. He had clearly wanted to return to the great hall for food and company, while she was content to remain out of sight for a while. The very last thing she wanted was to confront her attackers again. David had taken a note to her cousin Lady Barbara Matheson so that woman would not search for her or worry.
As she sipped her wine, Efrica studied the tall, slender man sprawled on the bed. It annoyed her to discover that her infatuation with the man still lingered despite three years of strangling it. His looks made such feelings understandable, for he was a beautiful man with his deep black hair and creamy skin. A long straight nose, high cheekbones, and a firm jaw gave his face an elegant, aristocratic look, whereas his thickly lashed golden eyes and sensuous mouth gave his face the warmth such perfectly carved features often lacked. In looks, he was all any woman could ask for. It was his nature that had made her so determined to kill all attraction to him. That was obviously going to take a lot more work.
She should have realized she had not cured herself of her fascination with Jankyn. From that first meeting at Cambrun when she was just a girl of sixteen, he had entered her dreams and stayed there. When she had arrived at court, she had learned of his reputation with women and the pangs that had roused should have warned her. If he had not exiled himself from those at court, she would have seen him with one or more women and ruefully admitted she would have undoubtedly suffered far more than a pang. It was unacceptable, but she was not sure what she could do.
Finishing her wine, she settled herself more comfortably in the chair, resting her feet on the edge of his bed. She would stay with Jankyn until she was sure he had recovered, and then she would do her best to stay far away from him. She refused to allow her heart to be held captive by a licentious rogue who lived in the shadows. Closing her eyes, she carefully listed all of Jankyn’s faults until she fell asleep.
Jankyn slowly opened his eyes to a room lit only by a nearly burnt-out candle set near his bed. A moment later, he recalled why he was lying on his bed and feeling a little weak. As he started to look around, his gaze settled on a pair of small, stockinged feet resting on the edge of his bed. After an appreciative study of the slender legs exposed almost to the knee, he looked at the woman sleeping in the chair and grinned. For a tiny woman, Efrica was taking up a lot of the large chair she was sprawled in, her slim arms dangling over the arms of the chair. Even so, the heavy, ornately carved seat accentuated her delicate build. He wondered how she had managed to move it, then recalled the strength she had revealed as she had helped him to his chambers.
Careful not to jostle her, he pulled himself up into a seated position, resting against pillows someone had obviously plumped up behind him. Although she still looked very young, her features had lost the last of the childish softness she had still possessed at sixteen. Her thick, honey gold hair hung in tangled waves to pool around her slim hips upon the seat of the chair. There was a faint touch of gold to her beautiful skin. There was also a slight feline cast to her delicate, fine-boned features, except for the full, tempting shape of her lips. Even at sixteen her mouth had been one to turn a man’s thoughts lustful. Of course, right now, that tempting mouth was slightly open and emitting a faint snore. And that long, beautiful neck of hers was cocked at an awkward angle that could probably cause her a twinge or two when she woke up.
Telling himself he was only doing it for her own good, to try to save her from a little discomfort, Jankyn nudged her foot with his until she started to wake up. When her eyes opened, the clouds of sleep that lingered there turned them a warm amber color. It made him think of how her eyes might look clouded with the heat of passion. It was a dangerous thought.
“Ye have your feet upon my bed,” he said and relaxed a little when the softness in her eyes was rapidly replaced by a look of irritation.
“I took my shoes off,” she said even as she put her feet on the floor and began to stretch, trying to rid her body of the various small aches caused by sleeping in a chair.
Jankyn wondered how she could make such a simple act look so sensuous. “I thank ye for stopping me from killing those two fools, though they weel deserved it.”
“Aye, they did, but twould have caused trouble, raised questions neither of us could afford to answer. And I thank ye for coming to my aid.” She frowned a little. “I am a wee bit surprised ye were so close at hand whilst the sun was still in the sky.”
“I was in the window. Tis shelter enough late in the day. I simply leapt down when it became clear that ye were losing the battle.”
Efrica looked at the window, recalled how far above the ground it was, and looked back at Jankyn. “A bit dangerous.”
“Nay. The sun was a far greater threat. Tis why I was slow to interfere,” he admitted. “I had hoped ye could deal with it on your own.”
“They were weel practiced in such games, I fear.” She scowled. “Mayhap I should have let ye rip their throats out. Now they can recover and repeat their crimes against women.”
“Twill be a while ere Lachlan