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wishing that Sir Blane would crawl in beside her, to hold her the whole night through.
    ’Twas chilly. That was the only reason why. Not because she fantasized about kissing him, or because she wanted to know what he really meant by saying his favorite meal was a honey pie. As naïve as she was, she couldn’t help but discern that such a thing had been wicked for him to say. If the hungry look he gave her was any indication, she might indeed be the meal he wished to fe a st upon.
    Frosty lay down beside her, taking some of the night chill away . But her desire to kiss Blane did not disappear.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four

     
    Och, what was the matter with him?
    Blane sat straight up on his bed roll, darkness surrounding him. The fire had burned down to embers, emitting little light. The moon was only a sliver, and what little light the orb emitted was blotted out by the towering trees of the forest. He couldn’t sleep.
    When his tossing and turning appeared to rouse some of his men, he tried hard to stay still. Flung his arm over his eyes, but even that did n o t hi ng t o take th e v i sion o f Aliah from his mind. He was utterly spellbound.
    He rested his arms on his knees and studied his men who slept peacefully around the dying fire. A lo ne man stood watch on the outside o f their camp. Knowing he would not be falling back to sleep, Blane stoked the fire, and then offered to relieve his night watch man. The tired looking warrior nodded, grateful for an early reprieve. They’d traveled hard to reach Aliah quickly. With little time to rest and always on alert, sleep deprivation was a given.
    Blane leaned against a tree, his gaze falling to the makeshift tent where his charge slept. Lady Aliah was beautiful and enigmatic. The way she pointed her arrow straight at his heart when he entered the great hall spoke of skill and protective instincts, yet when her wolfhound had charged into the woods, she’d gone after him without a thought.
    In the dark he could just barely make out the silver tail of Frosty poking out from beneath the tent, and beside it, he could have sworn he saw a petite boot. But ’twas hard to tell. Pulling his dirk from his boot, Blane picked up a thick stick and began to carve it. The task always seemed to clear his mind, and sharpen his hearing. Tonight, he needed to unencumber his mind from thoughts of a certain woman. If not , she could be the death of him.
    As if the devil tested him, the woman in question climbed from her tent. Her pale skin glowing in the dim moonlight, and her gown floating around her in a mystical way. If he wasn’t completely aware that he was awake, Blane might have thought he was dreaming. He pushed off the tree, meaning to go toward her, but she looked around cautiously, before slinking around the opposite side of the tent, her dog in tow.
    He narrowed his eyes. What was she about?
    He didn’t like that she was creeping away from camp. Perhaps Arbella wasn’t aware that her sister worked as a spy for the king. Or maybe Aliah had figured out who he was and sought to run away.
    Blane shook his head and wal ked stealthily toward the tent. The fact was, he ’d been sent to England to collect a woman he knew nothing about. Continuing o n her trail, he heard her let out a stream of unladylike words under her breath just beyond the next few trees. He had to stop himself from laughing. He always thought a woman should be allowed to speak her displeasure, if she was so inclined .
    “My lady,” he called out quietly.
    “Sir Blane?” she whispered—very loudly.
    “Aye.”
    “Give me but a moment of privacy?”
    “Indeed.”
    He walked back several paces, now realizing her intent. Frosty ran over and nuzzled his palm. Blane patted the dog on the head, then flicked his hand for the dog to go back to camp. He smiled when the pet followed his direction.
    Aliah emerged from behind the trees and sauntered forward.
    “What are you doing