She saw the exact moment he understood the insult, because with a growl, he lunged forward and scooped up one of her hands.
Muttering something about the saints and arses and asses, Kester tugged her toward the closest entrance.
And Robena hated the fact she still loved the way her hand fit so well in his.
* * *
Her ass!
That’s what she’d called him! An ass!
Her ass.
At least she’d called him hers. But still…an ass?
Better than an arse.
How, exactly, was an ass better than an arse?
One’s a beast of burden, one’s a bifurcated bit of fat and muscle—with two dimples—ye shite out of.
Aye, he kenned the difference between an arse and an ass, but—
Wait, two dimples? To shite out of?
Ye’ve never noticed arse dimples afore? They’re just above the buttocks—
Why in all the levels of hell was he having this argument with himself? Now?
Because ‘twas easier than focusing on the hurt he saw in the eyes of the woman behind him.
When Robena stumbled coming through the exit to the secret passages—although here on the main level, with so many doors leading to the great hall that a fooking donkey could wander through, they were hardly secret—he made himself slow.
Made himself breathe.
God’s Blood, but kissing her had been—had been…!
He didn’t even have words for it.
‘Twas the most magnificent experience of his life.
Aye. That.
Kester forced himself to breathe deeply, to turn to her, to exhale without cursing himself. “Milady,” he said stiffly, offering her his arm.
Not that ‘twould help; with the hustle and bustle in the great hall, more than a few people had seen them emerge from the wall looking disheveled. She was the laird’s daughter and looked as if she’d been trysting with a rogue.
Ye’re the rogue in that scenario.
Aye, he knew it.
When she placed her hand on his forearm, her fingers barely caressed his skin and he saw her swallow. She was holding herself back and he hated it.
Hated he’d done that to her.
The last weeks…one of the reasons he’d fallen so hard for this woman was her enthusiasm for life. She was an auburn-haired spitfire, constantly in motion, ready to take on the world. He’d loved listening to her goals and plans, and knew she was determined enough to see them through.
And no matter how many times he reminded himself he wouldn’t—couldn’t be here to see her succeed, he’d still found himself falling in love with her.