Anna took up position. Her eyes narrowed in concentration, her gaze never leaving the target. She breathed in deeply, holding her breath for an instant before exhaling slowly, her body relaxing into a poised stillness.
Then, with a swift, fluid movement she ran up to the throwing line and launched the ax through the air. The crowd went silent as the weapon spun end over end, flashing in the sunlight. He watched as it embedded itself in the target with a thunderous crack.
The crowd erupted into cheering and hollering. Duncan MacDonald put his hand on her shoulder and said something that had Anna laughing. Laughing!
Emeric felt a surge of jealousy roar through him like a tempest, hot and fierce. He stood on the edge of the crowd, unnoticed, his eyes locked on Anna. She looked radiant, flushed from the exhilarating throw and the unexpected attention.
Emeric’s chest clenched, the sound of her laughter echoing in his ears. She was managing to do exactly what he had asked her not to—attract attention. Not only was she mingling with too many people, she was also giving them quite a spectacle of her skills and strength. It wasn’t typical for a woman to participate in such events. But then again, Anna was anything but typical—and no doubt people would be talking about this for days.
His feet moved of their own accord, propelling him towards her. The crowd parted as he stalked through.
Anna startled at his sudden arrival but then her smile widened. “Emeric! Did you see my throw?”
“Aye, I saw.”
“Quite a feat, I must say,” MacDonald drawled, a smirk playing on his lips as he threw an arm around Anna’s shoulders.
Emeric’s fingers twitched with the urge to punch him.
“Yer lady here has quite an arm, Emeric,” MacDonald continued. “I’ve seen men twice her size throw less accurately.”
Emeric’s jaw tightened, his dislike for MacDonald growing with every word he spoke. “Aye, I’m sure it was quite the spectacle.” He fixed his gaze on Anna. “May I have a word?”
“Of course.” Anna stepped away from MacDonald and the two of them walked side by side away from the crowd.
“How did the archery contest go?” Anna asked. “I meant to come and watch but Maria insisted I—”
“What are ye doing, Anna?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are ye flaunting yerself in front of the entire clan?”
Anna bristled at that, her cheeks flushing with indignation. “I’m not flaunting myself! I’m just enjoying the festivities like everyone else!”
“Women do not participate in ax throwing contests!” Emeric retorted, his tone sharp.
“Well, I just did. And I did quite well, if I do say so myself.” Anna’s voice held a defiant edge, her eyes sparkling with challenge.
Emeric’s temper flared. “Did ye stop to consider the consequences? Ye made a spectacle of yerself! Everyone will be talking about this! Ye shouldnae have done it!”
“Since when do you get to decide what I can and cannot do?” Anna shot back, her eyes flashing with defiance.
Emeric ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Anna, I’m trying to keep ye safe.”
The rebellious glint didn’t leave her eyes. “I’m not a damsel in distress, Emeric.”
“Aye, I’ve noticed,” he snorted. “But ye have to remember we’re not surrounded by friends here.” He glanced towards MacDonald who was watching them closely. Lady Maria was also staring in their direction.
“There are people here who would harm ye if they knew who ye really were and where ye come from. And by participating in these contests, ye bring attention to yerself.”
“I’m not some delicate piece of glassware who needs protecting, Emeric,” she snapped. “I can take care of myself.”
“Really?” Emeric snapped back. “Like ye could take care of yerself when I had to pull ye out of that bog the other night?”
She glared at him, her fists clenched at her sides. Around them, the festivities continued in raucous contrast to the tension crackling between them. Emeric would be damned if he would be the first to back down. She had to realize she couldn’t just do whatever she liked.
But, Lord above, she was beautiful as she glared at him, her hair flying in the wind, her cheeks flushed. He felt his anger evaporating to be replaced by the almost unbearable urge to kiss her. How would it feel to have those lips on his? Her chest pressed against him? Her breath against his cheek?
