"Douglas?"

"Hmm. He lives near there and was in the town when I drove in. He quizzed the ostlers, then made the mistake of approaching Jessup late that night in the tap. Jessup reported his questioning to me this morning."

"And that brought you back?"

Lips compressing, Richard held back the impulse to agree. After three long strokes, he managed to get the truth out. "I'd already decided to return, but the notion that Douglas knew I'd left the vale, leaving you, in his terms, alone, made me hire a horse and ride. I left Worboys and Jessup to follow with the carriage."

"I didn't hear or see you ride in."

"No one did. You were all engrossed with the fire." He gave the lock he was holding an extra tug. "With running into a burning building."

She didn't respond. He brushed on, steadily removing flecks of ash from her bright mane. Under the brush, her hair came alive in his hands, like living fire. Warm, fragrant, gentle fire.

"Will you be staying?"

There were times, Richard decided, when he definitely did not appreciate being married to a witch. To a woman who could hold her demeanor to the calm and serene regardless of her true feelings. He never could tell what she really felt. Her question-surely one of the most vital facing them-had been couched as the most politely distant, totally innocent, query. Which, he decided, after all they'd shared, was too much to accept.

Frowning, he stared at the back of her glossy head. "That depends on you."

She clearly expected him to sleep with her-while in this house, he was still, quite obviously, to her, her husband. But what were the boundaries of his role in her eyes?-that was something he didn't know, something he needed to find out. Something they needed to discuss.

Abruptly, he stopped brushing. Grasping her shoulders, he drew her around on the stool, then hunkered down before her, so his eyes were level with hers. "Do you want me to stay?"

Catriona searched his eyes-desperately. They viewed her steadily, but told her nothing. "Yes-if you wish to. I mean…" Dragging in a breath, her gaze locked with his, she rattled on: "If you wished to stay I would be pleased, but I don't want you to think that you must-that I'd be expecting you to remain here always… or, or… resenting…" She gestured vaguely.

Impatiently, lips thinning, Richard shook his head. "That's not what I asked." He trapped her gaze and held it ruthlessly. "Do you want me to stay?"

Wide-eyed, Catriona tried another gesture. "Well! We're man and wife… I thought… that is, I imagined it was customary-''

"No!" He closed his eyes; his jaw set. Through set teeth he said: "Catriona, please tell me-do you wish me to stay?"

He opened his eyes-his irate gaze pinned her.

Catriona glared. "Well, of course, I want you to stay!" Wildly, she waved her bandaged hands. "I can't even sleep when you're not here! I feel utterly wretched when you're not by. And how on earth I'm supposed to get on if you're not here I don't know-" She broke off as tears filled her eyes.

Richard saw them; the breath trapped in his chest abruptly released in a huge sigh of relief-he reached out, grabbed her, wrapped his arms about her, and buried his face in her hair. And breathed deeply, inhaling the scent he'd so missed the previous night. "Then I'll stay."

After a long, silent moment, she sniffed, and softened in his arms. "You will?"

"Forever." Lifting his head, he brushed her hair from her face and kissed her. Long and lingeringly. "Come to bed."

Her lids lifted; she met his gaze. "Bed?"

Richard grimaced. "Your hands are hurt, remember." He stood, simultaneously lifting her into his arms. He lost his towel in the process; neither of them cared. He carried her to the bed, laid her down gently, freeing her hair, spreading it over the pillows, then, holding her wrists so she wouldn't forget in her passion and harm them, he covered her.

She'd cooled, but when he pressed into her she arched, then arched again and took him in. He settled within her, then drank her soft gasp when he drew back and thrust deep. Three thrusts later, she wriggled beneath him, tilting her hips to better receive him, lifting her legs and clasping his flanks-welcoming him in, holding him to her. Loving him.

Richard slowed, wallowing in the glory, in the intimate caresses she pressed on him. He bent his head and kissed her-she drew him deep there as well.

And so they loved-now slow, then faster, then slow again when the compulsion to savor the moment came upon them. Their bodies shifted and flexed in a dance older than time, hard pressing soft, rough rasping smooth. They lost track of time, of the world about them, of the night beyond their bed. The only things that mattered were each other's pleasure and the soft murmurs of contentment they shared.

And when the spinning stars finally crashed down upon them and took them from the world, they were together, as one, much more deeply than before.

Much more wedded than before.

Sunk deep in her softness, collapsed upon her, Richard's last thought was: At long last, he'd found his home.

Later, in the untrammeled depths of the night, held securely in Richard's arms yet still drifting in a sated sea, Catriona recalled her first sensing of him, recalled his hot hunger-his lustful desire-and his restless longing. She remembered very well that restlessness in his soul, his deep-seated need to belong. She could, she now knew, satisfy his lustful hunger-she could fulfill his other need, too. And thus anchor him here, by her side, satisfied with what she could give him.

She could be his cause, become his life's purpose.

Her initial reading of him, that, quite aside from his strengths, he bore a wound which needed her healer's touch, had been accurate. He did have a deep need for something she could give him-herself, but not just physically, he needed much more than that. He needed her specifically, and that need, even once satisfied, would never die; it would always be a part of him. And if that was so, then if she gave freely, she had no reason to fear losing him.

The only question that remained was how much he understood-whether he would still fight fate-The Lady's will-or accept what she offered him.

She knew he was still awake, still floating in the warm afterglow. She drew in a slow breath, and took her courage in both hands. "Why did you decide to come back?"

The quiet question hung in the dark, a sweetly tolling bell exhorting the truth.

Richard heard and considered the many answers. He'd returned because of the loneliness that had wracked his soul when, last night, he'd slept without her. Tried to sleep without her-without her warmth beside him, without her silken limbs alongside his, the sound of her breathing, soft and low, echoing in his heart. Tried to sleep without the fragrance of her hair sinking through his senses, anchoring him through the night. He hadn't slept at all.

He'd returned even faster after learning of Dougal Douglas, because of the feeling that had churned in his gut, spurring him back from Carlisle. Because of the dread certainty that he should never have left her.

A certainty transmogrified to fact in that horror-filled moment when, clattering wildly into the yard having seen the flames and smoke through the trees, he'd seen his worst nightmare enacted before him-seen her rush into a burning building.

He wasn't about to deny what he felt for her-the depth of what he felt for her-not ever again. He would have to learn to deal with it, learn how to live with it-and so would she.

Not, however, tonight. They were both far too tired to face such a task.

So he searched for a way to answer, some phrase that encompassed the truth. "I came back because this is my place." Turning his head, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "This is where I belong. With you. By your side."

Catriona closed her eyes tight-against tears of relief, of joy, and something more besides. That last welled through her, poured through her, glowing brighter than spun gold.

This was where he belonged-here-by her side. She knew it-thank The Lady, he knew it, too.

Chapter 15

Despite the fire and its aftermath, or, perhaps, because of it, they both slept deeply and awoke early, still in each other's arms. The temptation to celebrate the night and its revelations was strong, but…

"I have to go to the circle." Her head resting on Richard's chest, Catriona pushed at the heavy arm lying possessively over her waist. "I should have gone two mornings ago-I really must go today."

"I'll go with you." The words were out before Richard thought; he quickly amended: "I'll escort you there-if that's permitted?"

Still trapped under his arm, Catriona wriggled around so she could look into his face. "You'll ride there with me?"

Somewhat warily-was he committing some witchy solecism?-Richard nodded. "I'll wait, and ride back with you."

She searched his eyes, searched his face, then her face transformed, lit by a glorious smile. "Yes-come. I'd like that."

It was all she said before scrambling from the bed; Richard followed, bemused. The smiles she kept beaming his way, even when-especially when-she thought he wasn't watching, tugged at his heart and made him smile, too. By the time they clattered out of the yard, she on her mare, he on Thunderer, she was radiant with delight.

He shook his head at her. "Anyone would think I'd offered to buy you diamonds, not just ride with you to your prayers."