He stood there like a moonstruck fool, watching as the rainwater coursed down her face. He cast about forsomething to say, but now she was here his words deserted him.
“Good day, Anna...” he began finally. “I...um...” He gestured to the wagon beside him. “I need to get this into the store room.”
“Oh, dinna worry about that!” Angus said. “I can handle it.” There was a mischievous glint in his old friend’s eyes. “But I’ll see ye in the great hall later for that ale ye promised.”
Angus clucked to the horse and led the cart away. Aislinn skipped over to join him and the two bent their heads in conversation as they headed towards the store room.
Emeric was left alone with Anna.
The rain pelted down like nails, cold and biting but he barely noticed. He had eyes only for the woman in front of him. Yet he couldn’t think of a damned word to say.
“Ye...ye are drenched,” he managed lamely.
“I’m kind of getting used to it,” she shrugged, examining her clothing. “Although I think I’ll have to be peeled out of this wet dress.”
The thought of peeling her out of that dress sent heat cascading through Emeric’s body—and straight to his groin. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Lass, about last night—”
“Is there somewhere dry we can talk?”
He blinked. “Aye, this way.”
They could have gone into the keep. A fire would be roaring in the great hall and they desperately needed to get dry. But that would mean encountering others and losingany chance of privacy. So instead, he led her across the courtyard to the stable.
Despite the smell of hay and horse, inside the stables were warm and comforting after the harsh rain. The stable lads had done their job well, and everything was in its place: tools hanging from pegs, straw neatly swept, the smell of dry hay thick in the air and the horses drowsing in their stalls.
They crossed to a pile of hay bales stacked against a wall. Anna lowered herself gratefully onto one but Emeric remained standing. He was full of a nervous energy that would not let him sit.
“Anna, I—”
“I want to apologize,” she said, cutting him off.
He looked at her in surprise. “Ye what?”
“I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry about how things were left between us.”
Emeric said nothing. The last thing he wanted was forherto apologize, especially when it was him that had been behaving like an oaf. He tried to form words, to tell her it was his fault, to ask her to forgive him, but his brain seemed as waterlogged as the rest of him.
Anna stepped up to him, wiping away a raindrop that clung to his cheek. Her touch sent a shiver through him that had nothing to do with the cold.
“You know, I’m not sure the drowned rat look is going to catch on.”
And just like that, the tension between them evaporated.
“Ilook like a drowned rat? Ye clearly havenae looked at yerself recently.”
Anna made a show of examining her soggy dress. “This?” she said. “It’s nothing. Just a bit damp.”
He smiled but then sobered. “I’m sorry about last night, Anna. I behaved like an arse.”
“Yep. You sure did. But apology accepted. I’ve also been known to act like an arse on occasion.”
She walked over to one of the horses, her hand outstretched to stroke the velvety muzzle. Emeric watched her, the way she moved, the sway of her hair down her back.
“Well, I’m sorry,” he said. “Apparently I can be a bit of a sulking brat.”
She looked up from the horse, fastening her gaze upon him. Her eyes were the color of rich soil after rainfall—full of vibrancy and life despite all the weather had wrought upon her today.
