It cascaded down her body, caressing her backside. He felt mesmerized by the way she moved, and he could imagine exactly how the shifts would feel against his chest. The fire within him for her that never fully went out flared hotter.
After a few more minutes of rocky terrain, the landscape opened up. With a little laugh, she nudged her horse forward, widening the small gap that had been between them. The action was deliberate, a test of just how much freedom he was giving her, but it didn’t feel defiant.
As she continued to pull away, she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes were bright with challenge, and the carefree smile he’d seen when she was in the kitchens was back. When he said nothing, she pushed further, turning back to the path in front of her.
Is she challengin’ me?
For a few moments, he allowed it. Her posture loosened in the saddle as grass replaced rock. When she sped up, her hair flew behind her. The strands whipped out like threads of spun gold in the sunbeams.
He waited, allowing her a few more moments to lengthen the distance between them. Then, he dug his heels into his mare’s sides, leaning over her neck and urging her faster. She responded immediately, and he could tell just how excited the animal was to show off.
Ach, I’m nae lettin’ ye get away from me, lass.
The mare’s hooves dug into the ground, eating away the distance easily. Cool air bit into his skin, but the sun warmed the places it touched. It didn’t take him more than a minute to catch up with Amelia.
With a smirk, he effortlessly guided his mount across her path, forcing her to slow. She and her horse let out a snort of protest at the same time. With a bit of finesse, he brought them to a stop.
I should have taken her ridin’ sooner.
“Ye’re nae as subtle as ye think,” he said, amusement threading through the words.
She lifted her chin slightly, a playful glint in her smile. “Neither are ye.”
He scoffed, looking around the landscape. The sun was still high in the sky, and without the cover of the trees, the air was pleasant. It was incredibly green this time of year, with more shades of green than he could name.
“It’s quite bonnie out here,” she observed, capturing his attention again.
She wasn’t looking at him, though. Her focus was on the sky. A pure white cloud floated lazily across the blue canvas above them. He took the opportunity to commit her image to memory. She looked even more relaxed than he thought possible.
I may have to rethink me strategy with her. It seems she’s flourishin’ in me company this afternoon.
After a few long beats, Amelia urged her horse to turn around. Her gaze focused on the path they’d taken to get there. As the filly took a step a bit too hard, a flash of pain crossed Amelia’s expression, gone just as quickly as it came. He caught it, though.
Immediately, he dismounted and marched over to her. Already, she was trying to pretend it didn’t happen, giving him a put-on look of confusion. He ignored the expression, examining the saddle.
He spotted the problem quickly. At some point, the balance strap had loosened, the saddle shifting and redistributing Amelia’s weight, adding pressure to her ribs. With strong, decisive hands, he adjusted the leather slightly, avoiding her riding cane when she turned back to watch him work. Then, he walked around to the other side and glanced at the stirrup. It was positioned just a bit too high, probably putting undue strain on her knees.
Ach, the groom is nae used to preparin’ horses for women ridin’ sidesaddle. It’s a wonder it took her this long to feel the pain.
Above him, Amelia went still, but the tension that had marked most of their interactions was absent. She was still wary, but she said nothing as he lowered the stirrup. He worked with deliberate care, his brow furrowed, his fingers precise.
“Ye look very serious about it,” she said.
It sounded like an invitation to restart their banter, but he didn’t give his usual sharp exchange back. Hewasquite serious about this. He wasn’t going to let her injure herself further. When he finished, he smoothed the girth, assessing its position.
If her well-bein’ wasnae in question, perhaps I’d play along.
His callused fingers brushed against her lithe ones as he put the leather back into place. He let his touch drift over her knuckles, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Even when he pulled away, the residual tingling of the contact worked its way through his limbs.
For a long moment, his eyes traced the place where the soft of her thigh, wrapped in the sky-blue fabric of her new gown, met the solid leather of the saddle. His gaze traveled up slowly, taking in the rise and fall of her chest. When he caught her watching him, her breath caught, but it wasn’t from her ribs.
Her eyes are sparklin’.
He was close enough now that he could see the faint flush along her cheekbones. He felt, more than saw, the moment she forced her lungs to cooperate. She was waiting. He might even believe that she was inviting him in.
He couldn’t refuse a request from her.
Just as he began to give in to the magnetic pull, his hand going back to hers, his mare whickered sharply behind them. Both of them pulled their hands back to themselves suddenly. Neither moved for a beat, then Darragh returned his attention to the saddle.
