“And where am I supposed to sleep?”
He turned and grinned at her, couldn’t help it. “You could stay with me.”
Her eyes widened and color stained her cheeks. She drew in her breath sharply. “How dare you even…suggest…such a thing!”
Remy shrugged. “It’s your choice.” The idea of her warming his bed brought a vivid image to his mind.
“I am not that sort of woman!” Her eyes flashed with pride.
He took pity on her and relented. She didn’t know him, didn’t know his sense of humor. She couldn’t have known he wasn’t like most men, who would have taken advantage of this kind of situation. “You may move into the servants’ quarters for the duration,” he said over his shoulder as he continued down the hall.
“I thought we had an agreement, Major. You said you’d try to make your stay as pleasant as possible.” She caught up with him and grabbed his arm, stopping his progress. Her eyes narrowed. “You said—”
“I know what I said, Miss Cavanaugh.” He looked at her small white hand on his arm and felt an infusion of warmth seep through his sleeve. Her touch ignited a fierce yearning in him. In another time and place—he didn’t allow himself to finish the thought. “I am allowing you and your mother to remain here, but make no mistake. I am in command. My orders will not be questioned. I don’t accept it from my men and I won’t accept it from you. Do I make myself clear?”
Shaelyn nodded and stepped back, releasing her grip on his arm.
“I’m glad we understand each other. We are in the middle of a war. We all must make sacrifices.”
“Yes, Major, we are in the middle of a war,” Shaelyn said, her voice strong with defiance, her body stiff and unyielding. “But your battle has just begun.”
She spun on her heel and sashayed down the stairs. Remy watched her, fascinated. “If it’s a battle you want, Miss Cavanaugh, it’s a battle you shall have.”
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