“Will you be at supper, my lord?” Jocelyn bit her lip, knowing that she begged. He had not taken supper in the hall the past few days and she wanted him to know she had noticed the slight.

Lifting her down from the horse, he paused, holding her close, not releasing his grip on her waist. “Do you want me there?”

She glanced away from his questioning gaze, distracted by the warmth of his hands. “You need not come if you find it tedious.”

Malcolm caught her face with his hand and turned it toward his own. Her breath caught as he leaned down, his lips hovering over hers. Heart hammering in her chest, Jocelyn struggled for breath, waiting for the warmth of his lips upon hers. His roughened cheek brushed hers as those lips, which should have claimed her own, whispered in her ear instead. “You, my lady, are anything but tedious.”

Jocelyn swallowed hard and tried not to feel so bereft when he dropped his hands, stepped back, and gave her a small bow.

“I thank you for a most enjoyable ride,” he said, leaving her in the hands of his capable guardsman.

Jocelyn took a deep breath and watched Malcolm’s tall, broad form walk purposefully down the bailey. My, but he muddled her head into confusion. Just days ago she had fought against his kiss and yet today, well, today she was of a mind to be kissed senseless.