"Arthur. Who do you believe Mary would be convinced I would wish to be alone with?"

She watched as the lightbulb final y switched on in the big dumb man's head. It was a hilarious sight to behold, but she knew laughing at this point would not be a good idea.

"Me?" he said.

"The man wins the duh prize."

"She was attempting to give you and me time alone?"

She shook her head. "As was James, dummy. They conspired to al ow us to spend time together without being interrupted."

"There is no other?" he asked.

Her heart broke. She placed a hand over his. "I know you've been hurt, Arthur. But we wil go nowhere while you keep suspecting that I might be the next to hurt you."

He took her hand and kissed her fingers, then placed it right back against his beating heart. "I am so sorry, Isabel. I know not how to properly ask for your forgiveness."

She could think of several ways. But first things first.

"You told me today that you confided in me because you felt you could trust me."

"'Tis true."

"And yet tonight, that trust was gone."

He frowned. Real y frowned. "Not true. It was a total y different matter, Isabel. I trusted you with private matters."

"Have I broken that trust?"

"No, of course not. Stil , 'tis not the same."

"Tel me, what is so different?"

"You have so many men friends. You have al of my men wanting to do anything to make you happy. You even made my son learn what loyalty means. Something I have ne'er been able to do."

"Your point?"

He looked down and then final y up. "So many men want you, Isabel. It eats at me."

I so want to kick his ass, Viviane.

I agree, Isabel, but form a better plan.

Isabel sat down. "Just what happened today in the woods, Arthur?"

"I admitted my feelings for you," he said.

"And?"

"And you also said what you felt for me."

"Was I lying?"

"It would hurt beyond imagination should that be a lie."

"Yet you stil harbor doubts." Isabel stood up. "Mary was trying to give us time alone. It would have been perfect. You could have shown me how to undress you. We could have made love. But you are so sure I'm just as other women, that trust you said you felt was not entirely true, was it?"

"Please do not let us end the evening this way, Isabel. I have made so many mistakes, and I am sorry for them al . But you told me you loved me this very day, and I am not al owing you to take that back because I am a ... dolt? Then I am a dolt. But that does not mean I do not love you as much as I do.

"I answer to my mistakes, Isabel, but my feelings for you I refuse to say are wrong. You tel me, how, if you indeed return my feelings, as you said this day, that you can turn your back on me now?"

Isabel didn't think she'd ever love another man like Arthur. Stupid as she might be, she turned to look at him.

"There are no other men, Arthur. Tom, Dick and Harry are friends. As for others here in the castle, I believe you are a bit overly concerned on that front. Not a single one of your men has made an inappropriate move or said an inappropriate word to me. Wel , maybe Mordred, but we took care of that. The others in your realm? They have been nothing but complete gentlemen."

"I see the way they look at you. I hear what they say during skil s practice. I nearly knocked Edward down with my sword just yesterday. Too many dream of getting close to you. I can barely hold back my anger at the thought that any might try."

"And I see castle maids nearly swoon every time you swagger into a room. I hear them giggle and comment on the fact that they work for the most handsome king in al the world. Do I accuse you of being inappropriate with any of them?"

"I would ne'er!"

"Wel , I would ne'er, either!" she said.

They stood at a standoff, practical y glaring at each other. She felt like she was in the medieval OK Corral.

Isabel took a deep, calming breath. "There is no other, Arthur. Not here, and not back in Ok-in Dumont. If you wish, you may interrogate Tom, Dick or Harry. They wil tel you the same thing. In fact, they would al probably laugh at the notion."

He cocked his head. "Why is that? You are so beautiful and smart and funny. I would think you would have suitors lining up for a chance to court you. To ask for your hand."

Isabel laughed. "You would be wrong. I am so busy on various assignments, I have no time."

"Assignments?"

She waved. "You know, countessing things."

Final y, final y, his lips curved in a smile. "Countessing things."

"Yes, you know. 'Hey, you! You do this.' And, 'Hey, you! You do that.'"

"Ah, yes, countessing things."

"Right. Just as you are busy doing kingly things."

"Right. Where I say, 'Hey, you. You do this.' And, 'Hey, you. You do that.'"

"Exactly."

His smile bloomed into his ful -blown, heart-melting grin. "I understand."

Sure he did. Even she didn't understand the babble she'd just blurted out.

He looked down. "Then why me? Why now?"

Men. Ego stroking apparently had not begun during her generation. It was an age-old tradition.

She touched his arm. "The why you is easy. Because I felt the same as you did the moment I laid eyes on you. Quite before I had any idea who you were."

"I was there, Isabel. I saw your face. You feared me."

"Because you startled me. You have a way of silently approaching that is awesome. But the moment you smiled at me, Arthur, I was toast."

"Toast."

"Smitten. Taken with you. Attracted to you."

"Oh. Appears I like this toast thing. Then I, too, was toast."

She nodded, hiding a smile. "As for why now, who knows, Arthur? As you said, fate perhaps. Would I have chosen to fal for a very married king? I don't think so. Especial y one who was stil grieving over ... wel , things.

"I did not choose the time, the place, the man. In fact, the last thing I was supposed to do was fal for King Arthur." Boy, that sure was true. "But I cannot help or decide what happens or why."

"Except for when you are performing the 'hey, you do this' countessing tasks."

She socked him on the arm. "Now you are making fun of me."

He rubbed his arm as if that were a fierce blow. "Teasing you, pretty lady. You are one of very few people I have e'er met who can take as wel as she gives. 'Tis a quality of yours I greatly admire, and one which gives me much pleasure."

That single word hung in the air between them. Final y Isabel gave a short cough into her fist and then said, "Have I al ayed your fears, King Arthur? Have I answered your questions to your satisfaction?"

"You have. And I am deeply sorry for expressing my doubts."

"Big bad kings don't have doubts. They strut around doing kingly things."

"Oh, yes, how is it possible I misremembered? Hey, you, Countess, do this."

He kissed her, pul ing her flush against his hard, real y hard, body.

His lips moved over her face, to kiss her temple, and then suckled the lobe of her ear. "You smel so good," he whispered. "You always smel good."

If not for his arms firmly around her, Isabel had the feeling she'd fal to the floor like a rag dol .

But final y she'd had enough of this foreplay, because need was a powerful thing.

She straightened and pul ed away. "There is this game I like to play."

"Yes?"

"Yes. It's cal ed, last one to my bedroom has to get naked first." And then she picked up her skirts, ran into the castle and up the back staircase.

ARTHUR caught her right before she hit the door to her quarters. As he had fol owed her, laughing the entire way, he debated which he wanted more, but it seemed to him to be a win-win, so decided a tie was in order.

He picked her up, swal owing her squeals of protest with his mouth. He carried her into the room, only to stop short. There were candles alight everywhere, and a tray with a cask of wine and two goblets sitting side by side.

"Mary," Isabel said.

"Remind me to reward Mary," he said, and laid Isabel on the bed.

He looked down upon her, the glow of the candles making pretty Isabel almost breathtaking.

"I want you," he said. "Do you feel the same?"

"Who ran up here faster?"

He decided reminding her that he could have overtaken her at any moment would not be a great idea. He dragged air into his lungs. "I am at your mercy. But please, help me to settle down."

She laughed. "No, sir. I want a lesson in how to undress a king."

"You are very much not helping, madam."

She looked into his eyes, and Arthur was lost. He feared he would lose al ability to satisfy her afore either of them were unclothed.

She rol ed off the bed and rose blithely to her feet.

"Your tunic appears easy enough, sir, as I can simply pul it over your head," she said quietly. "However, you need to al ow me to remove it."

He held his arms up, and she pul ed it over his head and off, tossing it aside.

"And next would be what I can only consider a turtleneck, but I am certain you have another name for it."

"I am certain I do, however, for the life of me, Isabel, I could not name it if you placed a dagger to my throat."

"No chance of that."

She removed his undergarment, leaving him naked from the waist up.

"Oh, Arthur," she breathed, tracing the scars across his body.

"I am so sorry," he said.

"No! Do not apologize. The beauty of these is that you fought and won."

"Or merely survived," he breathed.

Her lips moved over his body, and he knew not how to stop her. He did not want to stop her. Yet he was dying to get his turn on hers. "You are kil ing me, Isabel," he said.

"So I am actual y kil ing a king? There must be a terrible punishment for that."

"I cannot begin to tel you how severe if you do not let me touch you," Arthur managed to say.