The chain mail sleeves fell from the shoulders of the leather armor, clinking ever so slightly with his movements. The laces of the hauberk were open, showing a hint of the hairs on his chest, and all too well she remembered her hours of running her fingers and mouth over that lush skin.
And as she stared at the small scar on his neck, she ached to trace it with her tongue. This man had a body and aura that should be cloned and made standard equipment for all men. Prideful and dangerous, it made every female part of her sit up and pant.
Stop that! she snapped at herself. They were in the middle of town and ...
And she had other people to study.
Yeah right. Like they were really more interesting than Sebastian.
He adjusted his sword so that the hilt came forward and the blade trailed down his leg, then pulled a leather bag from the saddle. A youth ran up to take his mount.
"What day is today?" he asked the boy in Old English.
"It be Tuesday, sir."
Sebastian thanked him and gave him two coins before relinquishing his horse to the boy's care.
He turned toward her. "You ready?"
"Absolutely. I've dreamed of this my whole life."
Channon held her breath as he led her through the bustling village.
Sebastian looked behind him to see Channon as she tried to watch everything at once. She was so happy to be here.
Maybe there was hope for them after all. Maybe bringing her here hadn't been a mistake.
"Tell me, Channon, have you ever eaten Saxon bread?"
"Is it good?"
"The best." Taking her hand, he pulled her into a shop across the dirt road.
Channon breathed in the sweet smell of baking bread as they entered the bakery. Bread was lined up on the wooden counter and in baskets on tables all over the room. An older, heavyset woman stood to the side, trying to move a large sack across the floor.
"Here," Sebastian said, rushing to her side. "Let me get that." Straightening up, she smiled in gratitude. "Thank you. I need it over there by my workbench."
Sebastian hefted the heavy sack onto his shoulder.
Channon watched, her mouth watering as his hauberk lifted and gave her a flash of his hard, tanned abs. His broad shoulders and toned biceps flexed from the strain. And when he placed the sack on the floor by the bench, she was gifted with a nice view of his rear covered by his black leather pants.
Oh yeah, she'd love a bite of that.
"Now what can I do for you gentle folks?" the woman asked.
"What looks good to you, Channon?"
Was that a trick question or what?
Forcing herself to look at something other than Sebastian, she attempted to find a substitute to sink her teeth into. "What do you recommend?" she asked, trying out her Old English. She'd never used it before in conversation.
To her amazement, the woman understood her. "If you're in the mind for something sweet, I just pulled a honey loaf from the oven."
"That would be wonderful," Channon said.
The woman left them alone. Sebastian stood back while she examined the different kinds of bread in the shop.
"So what's in the bag?" she asked, indicating the black one Sebastian had removed from his horse.
"It's just something I need to take care of. Later."
Again with the hedging. "Is that why you came back here?"
He nodded, but there was something very guarded in his look, one that warned her this topic was quite closed.
The woman returned with the bread and sliced it for them. While Channon ate the warm, delicious slice, the woman asked Sebastian if he would help her move some boxes from a cart outside into the back of her shop.
He left his bag with Channon, then went to help.
Channon listened to them in the other room while she ate the bread and drank the cider the woman had also given her. Her gaze fell to the black bag and curiosity got the better of her. Leaning over, she opened it to see what it contained. Her breath left her body as she saw the tapestry inside.
He really had stolen it. But why?
The old woman came in, brushing her hands on her apron. "That's a good man you got there, my lady."
Blushing at being caught in her snooping, Channon straightened up. At the moment, she wasn't so sure about that. "Is he still unloading the cart?"
The woman motioned her to the back, then took her to look out the door. In the alley behind the shops, she saw Sebastian playing a game with two boys who were wielding wooden swords and shields against him while pretending to be warriors fighting a dragon. The irony of their game wasn't lost on her.
She took a minute to watch him laughing and teasing them. The sight warmed her heart.
The Sebastian she had come to know was a man of many facets. Caring, compassionate, and tender in a way she'd never known before. Yet there was a savage undercurrent to him, one that let her know he wasn't a man to be taken lightly.
And as she watched him playing with the children, something strange happened to her. She wondered what he would look like playing with his own children.
With their children ...
She could see the image so plainly that it scared her.
"Why do you wear a mask?" one of the boys asked him.
"Because I'm not as pretty as you," Sebastian teased.
"I'm not pretty," the little boy said indignantly. "I'm a handsome boy."
"Handsome you are, Aubrey," a middle-aged man said as he moved a keg through the back door of the building across the way. The man looked to Sebastian.
He gaped widely, then wiped his hand on his shirt and moved to shake Sebastian's arm. "It's been a long time since I seen one of you. It's an honor to shake your arm, sir."
The boys paused in their play. "Who is he, grandfather?"
"He's a dragon slayer, Aubrey, like the ones I tell you about at night when you go to sleep." The man indicated Sebastian's mask and sword. "I was just your age when they came to Lindsey and slew the Megalos."
She wondered if Sebastian was one of the ones who had come that day.
As if sensing her, Sebastian turned his head to see her in the doorway. "If you'll excuse me," he said to the man and boys, then made his way toward her.
Sebastian could tell by Channon's face that something was troubling her. "Is something wrong?"
"Were you one of the ones who fought the Megalos?"
He shook his head as pain sliced through him. If not for his banishment, he would have been here that day. Unlike the other Sentinels, he had to fight the Katagaria alone. "No."
"Oh."
"Is something else wrong? You still don't look happy."
She met his gaze levelly. "You stole the tapestry from the museum," she said in modern English so no one else would understand her. "I want to know why."
"I had to get it back here."
"Why?"
"Because it's the ransom for another Sentinel. If I don't give them the tapestry on Friday, they will kill him."
Channon scowled at that. "Why do they want the tapestry?"
"I have no idea. But since a man's life was at stake, I didn't bother to ask."
Suddenly, she remembered what he'd said last night about the tapestry. "It was made by a woman named Antiphone back in seventh-century Britain. It's the story of her grandfather and his brother and their eternal struggle between good and evil."
On their way into town, he'd said it was the story of his grandfather.
"Antiphone is your sister?"
"Was my sister. She died a long time ago."
By the look on his face she could tell the loss was still with him.
"Why was her tapestry in the museum?"
"Because..." He took a deep breath to stave off the agony inside him, agony so severe that it made his entire being hurt.