Darcy Branwyn

Worth Fighting For

England, 1192

…“I…” Pull it together, Matthew. Had you or had you not once served on the king’s guard? “Lizzy’s bringing us some food. I haven’t eaten yet today and I was training.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you eat?” Jennifer looked him over as if to assess if there was anything wrong with him.

Because apparently I’m a lovesick fool.

“My hall is empty without my sister,” he said instead. That wasn’t much better. He still sounded like an idiot.

She nodded understandably. “I could see how that would be.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Yes, he supposed she would understand that. He really was being an idiot. And here he was, wanting to convince her that bedding him repeatedly for the rest of his life was something she wanted to dedicate herself to.

There was really only one way to deal with this, he realized. Matthew moved closer to her. Her face tipped back, and then her mouth opened and she was breathing harder.

“I need to feel you,” he confessed.

“Oh,” she sounded.

“Can I?”

“Um…” She tucked some hair behind her ear, and then nodded jerkily.

That was all he needed. Matthew reached for her, bringing her into him. He didn’t kiss her, not yet, even though he really wanted to. He tucked her against his chest and wrapped both arms around her, holding her instead. He leaned his chin against the top of her head….

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