“Don’t you dare,” she stopped him. “Don’t you dare apologize, Emeric. Not for this.”
His eyes searched hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. His hand left hers, only to move up and brush a damp curl from her face.
She pulled him close again, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. She felt Emeric’s surprise melt away as he moved with her, matching the rhythm of her lips against his own. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her against him until there was no space between them.
Anna was no longer cold and could barely feel the rain. Heat shot through her, her veins suddenly on fire. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted this, how much she’d wantedhim, until this moment.
His hand slipped into her hair, fingers tangling gently in the wet strands. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving over hers with a passion that stole her breath. She kissed him back hungrily, clinging to him, her fingers gripping the damp fabric of his plaid, losing herself in the feel of him, in the taste of him.
Then there was a wet snort above them and a shower of freezing water cascaded right down the back of Anna’s neck. She pulled back with a gasp and looked up to see the long face of Plover looking down at them, dolefully. He shook his sodden mane and a mist of water went flying in all directions, drenching them again.
Emeric gave a low laugh. “Bloody hell, ye daft beast. How did ye get free of yer tether? Had enough of the rain, eh? I canna say I blame ye, lad.”
His sea-green eyes found Anna’s. “We’d best get out of the weather too, lass. What say ye we find somewhere warm where we can dry off before heading back?”
“I would say that sounds wonderful,” Anna replied. Although what she really wanted was the horse to go awayand for Emeric to kiss her again. Yet the thought of getting warm and dry was also very appealing.
Emeric extended his hand, helping her to stand. She took it gratefully, her legs feeling more than a little unsteady.
They began their journey back to the village, the horse’s hooves clopping loudly in the silence of the rain-soaked countryside. Anna leaned into Emeric, the warmth from his chest seeping through her drenched clothes, staving off the chill of the evening.
As they rode, Anna tried to process what had happened between them. Each time the horse took a step, their bodies pressed together and her heart raced—this time not because of fear or cold but because of desire. She tried to think of something to say, something cocky, something flippant, but the confident, flirtatious persona that had served to guard her heart so well in the past seemed to have deserted her, and all she could do was sit in the silence, wondering what Emeric was thinking. Was he struggling as much as she was?
The smell of rain-soaked grass filled her nostrils along with the less pleasant, yet somewhat comforting scent of wet horse. She focused on that. Anything to distract her from the unsettling thoughts of the man sitting behind her.
They left Emeric’s father’s house behind and soon reached the village. The people who had been outdoors when they’d rode through were nowhere in sight, having sensibly retreated indoors out of the rain. Emeric did not take the road that led towards Dun Achmore but instead turned them downhill towards the river and to a long, low building built on stilts right at the water’s edge. Several boats were tied up at piers jutting out into the river, tiny row-boatsto larger barge-like vessels that bulged with cargo lashed down under tarpaulins made of sacking.
“This is the local waystation,” Emeric said by way of explanation. “An inn of sorts. It serves as a stopping place for trading vessels along the river. It isnae much but it should be warm and dry.”
There was a stable behind it on the riverbank and they rode in and dismounted, handing over Plover to a stable hand. Inside the inn, it was warm and surprisingly cozy. The air was filled with the scent of wood smoke and ale, mingling with the faint trace of damp wool from sodden clothes drying by the fire. Laughter rang out from a small group huddled around a table, their conversation filled with good-natured ribbing and the clinking of tankards. The innkeeper, a portly man with a red face, greeted them with a gruff nod.
Emeric ordered them each a bowl of stew and two mugs of ale. They found a quiet table near the fire and sat down. Anna shivered as she shrugged off her wet cloak, relishing the heat that soaked into her chilled bones.
The silence between them felt different now. Before, it had been charged with tension and uncertainty; now it held something softer, more intimate. Anna watched as Emeric picked up his spoon and carefully blew on the hot stew before taking a bite.
“Good?” she asked.
“Aye, not bad,” Emeric replied, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Anna took a spoonful of her own stew, savoring the rich, hearty flavor. As she ate, she kept stealing glances at Emeric,her thoughts awash with memories of their kiss. The taste of him still lingered on her lips, and each time their eyes locked, heat flushed over her cheeks.
After they finished eating, Emeric leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs under the table. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and sighed. In that moment of silence, Anna felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him. She yearned for another taste of his lips, another moment of melting into him.
The silence between them was broken by the innkeeper bringing over two more mugs of ale. Anna stared into hers, swilling it around and around. She replayed the events of the day over in her head. It had been quite the day. So much had happened that she wasn’t sure how to begin working through it all. The revelation about Emeric’s father. The kiss...
She took a sip of ale. It was warm and stale-tasting but she did her best not to make a face as she swallowed.
Emeric snorted a laugh. “Not an ale drinker, eh?”
“No. I don’t think I’d had a pint of beer in my life before I came here. Give me some fizzy wine or a gin and tonic any day of the week.”
“Gin and tonic? Canna say I’ve ever heard of that.”
“You haven’t? Oh, that’s right. I don’t think gin has been invented yet has it? Well, if you ever visit me in the twenty-first century I’ll take you to a bar I know in Glasgow. It has gin in about a hundred different flavors.”
“When I visit ye? Is that an invitation, lass?”
The look in his eyes sent heat spiraling right through her core. “If you like.”
