The Journey To Acre

Chapter 6

They were off course.

In a big way.

And not just the boat.

For Marian, this was nothing new; her life had been careening off course for quite some time now, probably since the first time she encountered Guy and Vaisey, or perhaps even further back to when Robin left for the holy land...

But... if she had to choose a moment, a point of no return if you will, then it would have to be her ill-fated attack on Vaisey. Even after the death of her father, she'd still had opportunity to pull on the reins so-to-speak, but since her slip-up with the sheriff, all control over her life had slipped through her fingers.

And now this...

She sighs and throws herself roughly against the pillow, burying her face in it, as if this will help. Of course it won't, because this is Guy's pillow and these are Guy's sheets; this is Guy's bed and these are his clothes... and that musky scent of leather that is unmistakably him will drive her mad before long she is sure of it.

Thanks to the storm, she has no option but to stay here; the hold requires extensive repair and is therefore uninhabitable. So this is where she's ended up. In Guy's berth and bed. Where he'd wanted her all along. He feigned nonchalance at this development, but was secretly jubilant no doubt. And thanks to Vaisey, she was also forced to wear Guy's clothes – having reduced her wardrobe to one single item, she has nothing to change into and thus her humiliation is complete.

Guy insists she take the bed. Won't hear of her sleeping on the floor. Behaves impeccably towards her at all times.

It aggravates her no end.

One would think she'd be grateful for better conditions and she is, but she's aware there is a price to pay, that this is another phase in the war of wills between them and she suspects that step by step, inch by inch, she is losing and she can't have that. She won't.

He surrounds her now. Entirely.

And all that was Robin...

No.

She won't have him push him out. She won't let him fade. She will resist with all she is.

Were it not for her thoughts...

She'd always prided herself on her infallible internal compass, but as with all else, this has been knocked off course and she grapples to put things back the way they ought to be but it's proving more difficult than she ever imagined.

If only he would stop being so... good...

That was rather inconvenient wasn't it? In the past, he'd always managed to blow it by being himself, but it seems that he's not quite that person anymore. Which is alarming. Each kind gesture provokes an irritated response, but that isn't sustainable is it? Her inherent goodness will not allow her to keep it up...

Images pass before her eyes. Visions of her cowering in his arms during the storm, of him removing his shirt so she can tend to his injury, of her trying to look at anything but the naked flesh before her whilst she bandages his shoulder...

How had she become so weak? How was he getting to her like this?

The worst of it was that each thought brought with it another; unbidden... unwanted... Her brain delighted in torturing her with reminders that the roots of this thing between them ran deep and that she had been denying her attraction to him longer than she would ever care to admit.

The result of all this was a tumultuous chemistry, making each new encounter charged and impossibly tense.

Could she find her way back to those safe waters where she can hold him at arm's length? Or were they destined to brave the tides that turn, where she needs to hold onto him whether she wants to or not?