Pursuit (Through Time 1)

“Aye, ye almost … well, ye were in a bad way, and ye be vulnerable now. What ye have to do now is eat …” He pushed back and away from her and with resolution stood up. “I’ll get a tray of food, and we’ll dine in here, for I’ll not be leaving ye alone—trust me in this. Understood?”

She adored him, that was what she understood. He was so damn gallant he didn’t see it, but she would let him abide by his ethics. She nodded. “Yes, food … I am hungry.”

He smiled, as happy as a boy who had just received the toy he had been longing for. “Aye then, food!”

She watched him march over to the door, where he turned back to her. “No one here will bother ye … so rest till I get back … and, lass, there will be chips!” With that he laughed and closed the door at his back.

She smiled to herself. He had noticed what she liked to eat. He cared—didn’t that mean he cared? Would it be enough for all eternity? She so needed forever.

* * *

Royce looked up to find Chance with a huge tray of delicious-smelling food. She was already feeling so much better. Soreness and aches throughout her body made her feel creaky, but that devastating pain was gone.

She smiled a welcome at him. “Oh, I am hungry.”

“You are always hungry.” He laughed. “I like a woman with an appetite …” His eyes bore into hers with his double meaning.

A breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she lay suspended with one thought—and it wasn’t about food.

He laid the tray down on the sideboard table and gently propped her up, retrieved the tray, which had table legs, and put it over her lap.

He surprised her by kicking off his sandals and climbing to sit cross-legged in front of her on the bed.

“I had our cook prepare everything I saw you enjoy … and then one or two of my favorite Dravo dishes … so you could try them …”

He dug into what looked like a pastry filled with stew and plopped a spoonful of the delicious ingredients into her mouth.

She savored it with her eyes closed and then looked at him. “Oh … that is amazing … no meat …?”

“No meat, all vegetables,” he said before eating from the same spoon.

They ate, tasted, laughed, and fed each other, and Royce felt her entire being come alive. She wanted him, needed him, had to have him, and yet, she thought sadly, he was keeping her still at a distance.

“So …” She decided to question him out of the blue. “You have never taken a bride—or even … wanted children?”

“As to children … aye, I do want them … but, like the Fae, immortality has made that a difficult task. Besides, don’t want ’em unless I could be there … with their mother raising them.” He shrugged. “We Milesians count ourselves lucky when we are able to conceive.”

“And no woman ever made ye want to … settle down and have children with her?” She tried to sound casual but felt her words had come out stilted.

He regarded her for a long moment and then said on a very grim note, “I have never discussed the subject—really discussed—it with anyone, but I will tell ye this, Princess Royce of the House of Nimrough: M’da … well, he worshipped m’mother. They were bonded through time …” He shook his head. “When he lost her … if he dinna have m’sister and me—though I was a man full grown—I believe he would have ended his own life.”

“How long ago was that?” she asked softly, her heart aching for Chance’s father, wondering about him.

“Five centuries ago. Och … he is a man and takes relief, but, no … he has never gotten over her loss. He aches for her. He no longer says so, but I see it.” Chance shrugged. “I doona ever want to suffer that …”

“How did he lose her if she was immortal?”

Chance eyed her for one long, suspended moment. “I doona want to speak of it now.” He got up and slipped back into his sandals. “Eat … then, if ye be up to it, lass … take a hot bath, and then get some rest. I’ll be back in an hour or so—doona fret. Ye are safe, mark me on it.”

“Chance …” She suddenly reached out and winced with the shot of pain that tra

veled through her. “Don’t go …”

He went to her immediately and brought her hand to his lips. “Och lass … don’t move so roughly. I’ll be back before ye’ll realize I’m gone.”

“I shall miss you the moment you walk away …” she said on a soft, low note.

“Och lass … doona want me, doona think of me like that. I am not worthy of ye,” he said and left her alone.