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Eventually, the throbbing dulled and retreated like a cat slinking back after it received its treat. Everything relaxed . . . her grip, her body. Everything but Garrick.
He didn’t move.
“How did it feel?”
“Like . . .” She shuddered.
“There’s more,” he said. “Much more.”
He stood and pulled her up with him. Garrick wrapped and held her face in his hands as he’d done that first night. He ran his thumb across her lip, and she touched her tongue to it without thinking.
Garrick was not hers.
She took a step back, and his expression immediately dropped. He knew what she was thinking. What she was about to say.
“Garrick—”
“I will not keep apologizing, Emma. It’s wrong. Very wrong. But I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman. And that is the truth.”
“But not enough.”
Try as she might, Emma couldn’t control her thoughts. If she could, she’d tell them to stop wanting more of this man she couldn’t possibly have.
“Emma—”
“Nay, ignore me. I’m just a tad . . .” She looked down at her gown and pulled it back up to where it belonged. “Overcome.”
He was quiet for a moment. “As am I.”
So there. They had both made a mistake. No harm done.
“Garrick—”
“Emma—”
She would never know what he’d intended to say. The door opened, and Emma spun around to see a servant standing in the doorway. They’d come so close to being caught . . .
“Pardon, ma’am. Shall I take the tray?”
Emma licked her lips and began to ascend the stairs. “Aye, you may.”
She didn’t look back.
14
They arrived at Kenshire well after dark.
Though they were cold and wet from the snowstorm that had caught them just as they rode into view of Kenshire Castle, Garrick had no wish to stay the night. But if the look on his men’s faces were any indication, they had no other choice unless he wanted to tell them, “We traveled through the night because of a certain raven-haired woman who enflames my senses and makes me want to forget the Earl of Magnus and his daughter even exist.”
“Emma,” her brother called from the courtyard as they made their approach. Apparently not content to wait for his sister to enter the keep, Geoffrey bounded toward her. She’d ridden separately for most of the day. On Caiser property, Garrick knew there was no need for them to ride together. And as much as it had pained him to watch her walk away, he didn’t think arriving with Waryn’s sister snuggled between his legs would help defuse what would likely prove to be an extremely tense situation.
“I’m fine,” she said, allowing herself to be engulfed in her brother’s arms.
They’d not spoken since the night before. They’d ridden together for a time this morning, and he’d opened his mouth more than once, but nothing had come out. Instead, he’d concentrated on the road ahead, on watching the coming storm, on anything that would get his mind off of the feel of her body pressed against his. Off the wide, joyful smiles she gave his men when they teased her, Emma taking their jests in stride.
Though she didn’t actively seek attention, his battle-hardened knights could not resist her smile. They laughed when she stuck out her tongue to capture snowflakes on it and demanded they do the same. And when they’d stopped around midday to rest the horses, Garrick hadn’t been surprised to feel the clunk of a snowball hit his back. Not the kind that fell apart when it landed, but a wet and hard bit of ammunition tossed by a minx who tugged at his heart every time she was near.
He’d been just about to mount Bayard at the time. Though she’d packed it up well, his gambeson absorbed most of the impact. Even so, he immediately knew what it was. He’d seen her toss them at some of the men, who refused, after looking to him for approval, to toss them back.
