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trust in.
    The sound of splashing water yanked her out of her thoughts. Had he shed his clothes to wash? Arianna was shocked that such a question would leap to mind. Worse, she badly wanted to look to get an answer to that question. Utter madness, she decided, and turned her attention to the pack that held the supplies. She put every scrap of willpower she could gather into settling all her thoughts on the simple matter of putting together a decent meal. The whispered suggestion that slithered through her mind that she was doing so to impress Sir Brian was ruthlessly suppressed.

    Brian rinsed his clothes and spread them out. The rough shelter slowly filled with the tantalizing scent of roasting meat and something else. Lady Arianna had obviously decided to add something to the simple meal. By the scent of what she had made, he knew he would appreciate it but hoped she had not used too free a hand with his supplies. Gathering more while they fled her enemies would not be easy.
    Turning to join her by the fire, he hesitated after only one step in her direction. She was busily using her fingers to comb out her hair, pausing now and then to gently untangle a stubborn knot or tend to the meal. Hints of red were revealed by the light of the fire, enlivening the thick mass of honey-gold hair that was so long it pooled a little on the ground by her slim hips. His fingers itched to take over the chore of untangling it.
    He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It eased the worst of a sudden fierce attack of lust but the sharp bite of hunger lingered. Something about the delicate Lady Arianna severed his control over his lusts, a control he had long prided himself on. From the time he had first looked into her soft golden eyes he had guessed that she could be trouble, but he had not truly considered just how great a temptation she could be to him. It could prove to be a very long journey ahead.
    For a moment he considered seducing her. She was no maid, but a widow. Many men considered widows fair game. Then Brian grimaced. That was the reckless MacFingal part of him whispering in his ear. From what Lady Arianna had told him, she had little cause to trust men. Seducing her would certainly not aid her in trusting him.
    “That smells verra fine, lass,” he said as he moved to sit down next to her.
    She tensed and he fought the urge to shift farther away from her. It might have been better if he had sat across the fire from her but he had not wished to stare into those captivating eyes of hers as he tried to eat his meal. Brian told himself it was best if he did not coddle her unease, either, for she had to depend upon him until she was safe with her family. He was not surprised when a little voice in his head scoffed at that excuse. It was a paltry one.
    “I mixed some leeks ye had with the stale bread and a piece of rather old cheese. ’Tis naught,” she said, trying not to be too pleased by his compliment. “Thought we ought to have more than just the meat.” She cast a glance at his pack of supplies. “Ye carry a goodly store of food.”
    “Aye. I dinnae like to go hungry.”
    “Few do.”
    The fleeting, shy smile she gave him tightened his insides with the desire he was doing such a poor job of banishing. It was a puzzle that he felt any desire at all. Although she looked a lot better than she had when they had entered the cave, she was still all bruised and scratched. Her full lips were dried and cracked by the harsh salty water of the ocean and did not look all that kissable. Her injuries did not dim the beauty of her lithe, shapely form, however, or the glory of her long hair. There was no hiding the beauty of her eyes, either.
    “Tell me all ye ken about the ones hunting ye and the lads,” he said in an abrupt attempt to turn his wandering thoughts to something other than all the reasons he wanted her.
    Arianna served him some food as she said, “I have told ye most of it. I truly believe that Amiel killed his