Sharon Schulze by To Tame a Warrior's Heart

mouth before holding his hand out to her. “Have some. They’re delicious.”
    A scowl marred her delicate features. Catrin raised one eyelid, then both eyes popped open. “Raisins? You were in grave danger gathering raisins?”
    “Aye.” What did it take to make her laugh? Did she have no sense of fun, of the ridiculous? He’d not bother to explain. It would make no difference. He stuffed more food into his mouth, then leaned back against the wall and folded his arms.
    The injured expression on Talbot’s face made Catrin want to laugh, though her back hurt like the devil. He looked like a sulking little boy—though she’d never considered him in that light before. His reaction touched her, swept the effects of her dream away. The mighty warrior was no different than any other man, it seemed.
    She could stroke his pride. She’d had plenty of practice at that, with her brother and his men.
    But ’twould be so much more fun, and distracting, to plague him. He deserved it, after his remark about rolling on the floor with her. She didn’t know if he’d meant it. Indeed, ’twould be best if he did not, for both of them. She had nothing to offer him—or any man.
    However, she’d always found badgering Talbot a most enjoyable diversion. And at the moment, anything that might distract her from the shadows in her mind and the pain in her back would be a blessing.
    She propped her hands beneath her chin and raised herself enough to meet his gaze. “So tell me, milord—didyou use a dirk on the beasts, or did you wrestle them into submission with your bare hands?”
    A hint of surprise crossed his face before his lips firmed into a thin line and his eyes darkened to a deep purple. A giggle escaped her before she composed herself. “Henceforth you shall be known as Lord Nicholas the Raisin Slayer.”
    “You honor me, lady,” he said, his grave tone at odds with the sparkle in his eyes. He held out a sticky mass of the fruit. “Please accept this token of my regard.”
    How should she take that remark? she wondered as he held the raisins to her lips. His fingers brushed against her mouth, their hard warmth discernible despite the heat radiating from her skin. The warmth his touch generated ’twas different from any she’d felt before, a glow from within the depth of her being.
    She pushed away that disturbing thought and turned her attention to the food. Idris provided a blessed distraction, creeping forward and nudging her with his nose. Praise God, he appeared on the mend; he flopped in a heap beside her and allowed her to scratch his head. He eyed the food spread out on Talbot’s shirt, but he made no move to touch it.
    “I doubt he’ll want them,” Talbot said, then surprised her by pushing a few raisins toward the dog. Idris sniffed at them and, after her nod of approval, lapped them off Talbot’s palm.
    They ate in companionable silence, the rain and thunder a soothing backdrop now that the storm had moved away. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she started to eat, but now she felt ravenous. She savored every bite Talbot gave her and watched with regret when he wrapped the shirt around the remainder.
    “I’ll find us some real food tomorrow,” he said. “But ’twould be foolish to eat all we have now.”
    He gave a muffled shout of laughter. She looked up, then joined in, wincing at the pain but unable to resist.
    Idris chewed at the wad of raisins in his mouth—and chewed. “They must be stuck in his teeth,” she said, chuckling at the sight. “Idiot,” she murmured as Idris swallowed and gave her a tooth-filled grin.
    Talbot left the cave, returning almost immediately with a cup of water. “I thought dogs only ate meat,” he said as he handed it to her.
    She held the cold cup to her face for a moment, then drank. The water felt so good pouring down her aching throat! All too soon, she handed the empty cup to Talbot. “That falsehood exists only because no other hunter has ever