She raised her head to look at him and she caught a soft concern there in his dark eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

“Do you think you’ll be ransomed soon?” she asked.

“One can only hope.”

She wanted to try and keep a sliver of a distance between them if she could, but it was cold and leaning against him kept her warm. She imagined it did the same for him. So did she deprive not only herself of warmth, but him as well?

She was too practical to ignore the obvious answer and when she felt him shiver, she did what was best for them both. She leaned against him.

“For warmth we both need,” she said, not wanting him to misconstrue her intentions.

Slatter slipped his arms around her, tucking her flat against him. “Your warmth and thoughtfulness is much appreciated.”

There were times he sounded kind rather than charming and it was those times she felt more inclined to believe him. She only hoped she wasn’t wrong.

“The last time I saw you, you were a prisoner in the Lord of Fire’s dungeon. How is it that you’re here a prisoner in this godawful hole?” she asked.

“Pure luck,” he said with a chuckle. “The Lord of Fire decided that an appropriate punishment for me was to hand me over to a tribe of barbarians he was familiar with for an undetermined amount of time. What neither the Lord of Fire or the barbarians knew was that I’m exceptionally skilled at escaping from almost anywhere or from any one. I escaped the barbarians on my second night with them, only to find myself captured by Beck. Naturally, he wasn’t about to just hand me over without being compensated for his fortunate luck in coming across me. So here I sit and wait, a hole in the ground not easy to escape.”

“How long were you here before I arrived?”

“Two days,” he said, his glance going to the one scratch on her face. “That scratch looks to have worsened.”

“The ale did that, but it will also help heal it,” she said, seeing concern with the way his brow narrowed as he stared at the wound. Even a scrunched brow couldn’t mar or hide his fine features. It seemed no matter what expression the man wore; his good looks didn’t suffer for it.

“You’re not only beautiful. You’re a fine healer.”

“That tongue of yours lies easily,” she accused.

“My tongue is talented and does a lot of things with ease, but it doesn’t lie… this time.”

“It doesn’t?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “Then why did you say that I wasn’t as beautiful as the women who watched you and called out greetings when you exited the hole this morning?”

“You’re too intelligent not to know that I was telling the women what they wanted to hear, since they no doubt don’t hear it from their husbands. Besides, being nice to them has earned me extra food. They drop it down to me every now and then. And all women are beautiful in their own way.”