Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,64

spoke in her language. “You remain my charge, the exchange I would make with your cousin giving us what we both want—your return to Wulfenshire and my freedom to choose my path without endangering others.”

She thought she could be well with that if the path he took was forward, but set as he was on revenge, it wound backward in the direction of Daryl and Abbot Turold.

Accepting one side of their meal would be overcooked, even burned, she set a hand on his arm. Feeling him stiffen, she said, “I also wish justice for Zedekiah’s death, but can you not let it be God’s justice? His revenge? Can you not find your soul’s rest in honoring your friend and his sacrifice by staying alive and rebuilding your life as he would want you to do?”

His nostrils flared. “How does one rebuild a life torn down, Nicola? How is that possible when the materials needed are in Norman hands and behind Norman blades and walls?”

“Other persecuted Saxons have fled to Flanders, Paris, Spain, even Italy. You could—”

“That is your answer? Run rather than help my people? Though once I considered leaving England, all that lies across the narrow sea is survival as a sword for hire. If I am to fight for others, then they will be Saxons.”

Nicola thought only enough to accept what she did would disappoint the one she strove to be, then lifted her hand from his arm, set it on his jaw, and shivering over the prick of his beard, peered into his eyes.

She saw the gold in the brown before he narrowed his lids to warn her away, but since it felt to her what was in him leaned toward what was in her, once more she did what she should not. She pushed onto her toes, and when no words of rejection were spoken, returned her gaze to his. “I care not what you call it, care not that you make little of much, still I say it is love I feel for you.”

His lids began to rise, and seeing his pupils enlarge, she would have smiled had he not once more gone distant as if rebuked for finding life in the midst of mourning.

“I beseech you, do not disregard my heart as Hawisa disregarded yours, Vitalis. Have a care for it, even if it is only pity, keeping it safe by keeping yourself safe from Daryl, Abbot Turold’s men, and William.”

That he would not do. It was there in his eyes.

“Stubborn Saxon,” she whispered, then slid her hand around the back of his neck and set her lips on his.

When he tensed and held his mouth firm, she stepped nearer and kissed his upper lip, lower lip, then the corners long denied smiles.

He did not respond.

“Stubborn Saxon,” she repeated and more firmly set her mouth on his.

His lips parted, and she gasped in his warm exhale and thrilled when he deepened the kiss. But a moment later, he stilled and against her mouth said, “Do not do this, Nicola. Aye, I want it, but when it is done, this is all there will be of us. Naught else.”

She peered at him through her lashes. “You think so little of memories? I do not—at least, not memories like this. Memories of a kiss and… Will you not put your arms around me. Vitalis?”

“Nicola,” he groaned.

It sounded surrender to her, and so she slid her other hand up his side and between their chests to feel the pound of his great heart.

This time his groan ended on a growl, and he pressed forward, wrapped his arms around her, and took control of a kiss that had been benign compared to what he made of it. And might have become much more had he not ended it—blessedly, not cruelly, which would have made her feel rejected as Mercia must have been with Maël.

Vitalis pressed her face between his neck and shoulder, and setting his own between hers, continued to hold her so close there was only enough room for shallow breaths to fuel the heart careening about her chest.

“This changes naught,” he said. “I go my way, you go yours.”

“Yours being toward vengeance,” she whispered.

“Name it vengeance or justice, it will do what God does not—protect innocents who shall otherwise suffer at the hands of those who murdered Zedekiah. And I believe my friend would be well with that.”

Neither spoke again until, seemingly reluctant, he lifted his head and eased her back. “What words passed between Zedekiah