The Champion. Suzanne Barclay

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      “Just so. I’ll be back in two shakes.” Drusa hurried off.

      Linnet snorted and rolled her eyes. “You, a fearless knight returned from the Crusades, are shaky?”

      “The sight of a woman in distress does affect me most severely. And the thought that I might have caused you grievous injury…” He put a hand over his heart and sighed mightily. It was a pose Nicholas struck. It never failed to make women melt.

      Linnet laughed. The sound was musical, captivating. The merriment transformed her features from comely to striking. Firelight picked out the gold flecks in her eyes and made her hair shimmer. It was as though the sun had suddenly come out from behind a cloud to shed its radiance on the world, to banish darkness and cold.

      Simon had an unexpected urge to pull her onto his lap, to kiss her breathless, wrap them both in her glorious hair and see if she could measure up to his dream. Already he could feel his body responding, his pulse leaping, his loins quickening in prelude to a chase as old as time. But he had never wanted any woman as swiftly or with as much certainty as he did this one.

      She felt it, too. He measured her awareness in the widening of her eyes, the soft gasp that seemed to fill the room with possibilities. What would she do? Scream? Faint? Throw herself at him and fulfill their unspoken fantasy?

      “Aiken has returned with the food,” Drusa called up the stairs. “I’ll bring it up directly.”

      Linnet started, shattering the moment. Her cheeks turned bright red, and her eyes filled with such confusion Simon knew she was new to this. Perhaps even a maiden.

      The notion heightened his turmoil, the craving for her warring with the need to protect her. He knew he could not be alone with her in this room and be certain he would not act on the desire that sizzled between them.

      “We will come down, Drusa.” Simon smiled wryly and climbed to his feet. “There is a time for everything, they say. Our time will come.”

      She ducked her head. “Perhaps it has come and gone.”

      What an odd thing to say. Simon extended his arm. “Come, Linnet, we are both in need of food.” He started when she laid her hand on his arm, the tingle warming his flesh. How was it that this woman he had only just met excited him so?

      Drusa and Aiken were waiting for them in the kitchen. A steaming bowl of stew sat in the middle of the table, flanked by bread, butter and a pitcher of ale.

      “Drusa said Elinore would worry if I told her ye’d been hurt, so I said nothing,” Aiken remarked.

      “Not even to Tilly?” Linnet asked.

      Aiken’s expression turned sullen. “She was serving the sheriff and didn’t even see me.”

      Linnet let go of Simon’s arm and sat on the nearest bench, but not before he had felt her shudder.

      What had she done? He wondered again.

      Drusa served up three bowls of stew and poured ale for all of them before joining Aiken across the table from Simon and Linnet. “How does it happen ye survived, Sir Simon?”

      “It was God’s will, I would guess,” Simon replied. God’s will, a bit of luck and a lot of hard fighting.

      “How did you come to be reported dead?” asked Linnet.

      “Eat, and I will tell you.” Between bites of stew, Simon related the events leading up to Hugh’s capture and eventual transport to Acre, from whose stout prison they’d freed him.

      “A miracle.” Linnet’s eyes shimmered with tears.

      How compassionate she was to care so for a stranger, Simon thought, drawn to her even more strongly. Their gazes locked, and he felt the tension stir between them again.

      “Did ye kill a host of the fiends?” Aiken asked, his eagerness typical of many who had sailed with Simon to the East.

      Simon smiled faintly at Linnet and forced himself to look away. Unfortunately, the Crusade had been not only a dismal failure, but a living hell. Deplorable living conditions, temble weather, disease, lack of supplies, loneliness. These had taken more of a toll on the Crusaders than the infidels’ swords and arrows. “We killed our share,” he allowed.

      Aiken’s lower lip came out. “Wish I could have trained to be a soldier instead of a spicier,” he grumbled. “Then Tilly wouldn’t look down her nose at me.”

      “There are other girls in Durleigh,” Linnet said gently. “Girls who would realize that a successful apothecary can earn twenty times what a soldier would.”

      “Lot ye know.” Aiken shoved back the bench he shared with Drusa, nearly toppling the woman.

      Simon caught hold of Drusa’s hand to steady her and glared up at Aiken. “Courtesy to others, especially women, is one of the first duties a knight learns.”

      Aiken paled. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

      “I am sure ye didn’t,” Drusa said hastily.

      “Sit, then, lad, and I will tell you of the wonders I saw while in the Holy Land.”

      “Tilly would certainly be impressed,” said Linnet.

      Aiken sat and listened eagerly, but it was to Linnet that Simon spoke as he spun tales of sailing ships and cities with gold-domed buildings, of endless deserts and towering palms, strange people and even stranger animals. Time drifted away until he suddenly realized that Linnet’s face had gone pale and dark smudges rimmed her eyes. “You are tired.”

      “It is fascinating.”

      “Nonetheless, I should go.” He stood slowly, reluctant to leave the cozy kitchen and the woman who intrigued him more with each passing moment.

      She rose beside him. “Have you some place to stay?”

      “The Royal Oak.” He grinned down at her, thinking how small she was—her head came to the center of his chest. And how close, only a foot separating them. His body hummed with the desire to take the single step that would bring them together. He relished the ache, for it had been a long time since he had felt passion stir this sharply, other than in his special dream.

      “Sir Nicholas and Sir Guy, two of my fellow Crusaders, went to the inn earlier to reserve a room. They are likely wondering what’s become of me.” Still he could not look away from her.

      “Come, Aiken,” said Drusa. “It’s time we were settling in, too. Go through to the shop and make certain all is locked.”

      Linnet nibbled on her lower lip, her eyes eloquent. “Let me give you a torch to light the way, Sir Simon.” She lit a pitch-tipped pole in the coals and handed it to him. Stepping outside with him, she pointed the way. “The path is over there and leads through the hedge to the inn’s backyard.” She sounded as breathless as he felt.

      Knowing he should not touch her, but unable to help himself, Simon put his hand under her chin and lifted it. “Linnet. I would like to call upon you again.”

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