“Before she could speak again, he asked, “Is that my cloak?”
“Yes.” She held it out to him, but he didn’t take it.
“Why did you bring it back? I realize it is worn, but—”
“No.” She almost gasped the word, and when she reached out to touch his chest, her hand brushed hardness. She snatched her hand back. “It isn’t that, sir. You were most generous to allow me to borrow it.”
“It was a gift. Yours to keep.”
His heartfelt statement shook her down to her boots. “I thank you. It kept me warm. I…it was on my bed and kept me comfortable during this last cold snap.”
“Then why did you bring it back?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“My parents insisted I return it.”
His lips tightened, and muscles in his jaw worked. He turned away and stared out the window. “I see. Though I’m not surprised.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I did not mean to offend.”
“Offend?” Once more he turned towards her, and his hand came up.
She flinched and drew back.
He frowned, but his voice was soft. “Did you think I was going to hit you?” He clasped her shoulders and leaned in close. “Listen to me. I’d never raise a hand to you. I don’t hurt women or children. I’ve never beaten a woman or child, nor will I suffer anyone to do so.”
Realizing that she trembled from head to toe, Adrenia closed her eyes and took a shivering breath. Her muscles, which had locked tight, eased.
“Goddess.” He rubbed her shoulders. “I was only reaching to do this.” He lifted his left hand slowly and touched her uneven hairline. “Who did this to you, Adrenia?” When she wouldn’t answer, he continued. “Were your parents angry about this cloak?”
His hand brushed over her hair, then her cheek in a touch that made her want to melt like a kitten under a caress. “They say it isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to take a gift from a soldier.”
His eyebrows went up. “Even an officer?”
“Not any man.”
He sniffed. “It’s as I told your father. No daughter of mine, no woman who belonged to me would go without protection from the elements.”
― Denise Agnew