Rosto watched her, knowing that his dark-eyed gaze made her uncomfortable but not caring overmuch. He drank in the sight of her; the way she made faces at whatever comment Pounce had made for her ears only, her smile as she listened to their friends laughing and joking over the now-traditional breakfast. But when she looked at him her freckled face would close down, her beautiful gray-blue eyes grow cold as she hid behind her past. He knew she felt something for him, and he knew why she fought it.
But he loved her. He had realized that a while ago. When, despite his various assignations, he found himself wishing it was this feisty Terrier in his arms rather than the mot he was with. When he wanted the Bloodhound by his side at meals rather than the various rogues he supped with. When he found himself wishing it was Beka's beautiful face on the pillow beside his come morning. He had no wish to startle her by revealing these desires. But he let her know, with small looks and touches and the distinct lack of women in his life, that he wanted her and only her.
And so Rosto the Piper, Rogue of Tortall and all around lady's man, fell for a single young woman. And a Dog at that. That was what drew him to her though, or so he thought. Their differences made them a great team. And their similarities brought them closer with every encounter.