Impossible, she had almost said. He did not respond to this demand, but let his silence speak his agreement. If she did not want to speak of love, he could accept that. He would accept anything right now. He knew, however, that the pretense they would live was not the one she avoided, but the one she insisted upon.

Her expression hardened a bit. “I also do not want anyone to know about this. I will come to you here, after my women are asleep. I do not want your men laughing about the Welsh whore. I am notorious because other English knights did not show chivalric concern for a lady’s reputation because she was Welsh, and I will not be made a fool again.”

Someday he would ask her to explain that part of the episode with Edward, but not tonight. He did not doubt that her being Welsh had made a difference. Edward was no saint, but there were no songs about his English ladies. “As you wish, although it is not unusual for betrothed couples to sleep together.”

“We are not betrothed. I do not come to you as a bride, nor will I ever.”

He decided that was also a topic for another day. “Then we will be discreet.”

“There is one more thing. You must withdraw before you finish, so that I do not get with child.”

“I cannot do that. It was my intention in the lodge, but … With another woman, it would be possible, but not with you.”

Her expression fell with … what? Disappointment? Relief? “Then it cannot be any way at all. I will not risk that.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. He had waited all night, days, weeks, and when she finally came to him she dangled paradise in front of him only to snatch it away.

She turned away without looking at him, and aimed for the door. She actually was leaving.

The hell she was.

He reached the door at the same moment she began opening it. Pressing his hand flat against it, he forced it closed again.

She stayed with her back to him, her body almost filling the small space between his skin and the door. The closeness of her spring scent, of her soft warmth, made his blood flow hot and fast.

“I think that you could do what I ask,” she said, resentfully. “In Scotland—”

“I am not an old Scot. And I cannot do it because in truth I do not want to do it, and that is all that will matter when the moment comes. If I only experienced the simple pleasure that you demand, I’m sure I could. But when I am inside you, careful thoughts disappear from my head. I will not make a promise that I already know I will not keep.”

“Then, as I said, this cannot happen at all.” She began to yank the door open again.