“What are you looking at?” Brandi had lowered her glasses to peer at Eryn.
Eryn hadn’t realized she was staring. “Nothing. I was just thinking. Sorry about that.” She finished drying off, gathered her towel, lotion, and envelope and headed for the house. “I’ll be here for a bit. I’ll let you know when I leave.”
“I want a full update on…what’s his name...Troy? See if he’s got a girlfriend, will ya?”
“You got it,” Eryn called over her shoulder. She smiled. She should set them up. Who knows? They might just be good for each other.
Chapter 8
Catherine woke before the sunrise, feeling hollow-eyed and tired. The events of last night wore on her even as she slept. She slipped out of the bed, drawing the bedcovers close to her body to ward off the chill lingering in the air. The stones beneath her feet were as cool as the morning air wafting through the window, bathing her face with its crispness. Outside, the grounds were still swaddled in that moment between night and day, when time weighted in the balance, almost undecided as to what to do next. Catherine held her breath and counted the seconds. Reluctantly the night released its grip as the morning light began to unfold, luxuriously stretching its light across the pale hills, reaching towards the sea. She relaxed, letting her breath out slowly in concert with the rising sun.
The evening past had drawn on endlessly as Lord Oakley’s leering stares and inappropriate remarks escalated with each tankard of ale he emptied. Beside her, Galen had endured her father’s guest in strained silence. Though Catherine sat between the two men, she had proved to be a poor buffer, for Lord Oakley took thorough pleasure in baiting Galen. She could see by the tightening of Galen’s strong jaw, the flexing of his hands, that if Lord Oakley had not been under the roof of her father, Galen would have gladly taken the nobleman apart limb by limb.
On more than one occasion she heard the word marriage pass across Lord Oakley’s thin, twisted lips, but much to her relief, her father dismissed the idea. Though his lands bordered their own, and such a union would strengthen their holdings, she knew her father loved her enough not to force her into a marriage with someone as vile as Lord Oakley.
Catherine rubbed her arms vigorously, but could not suppress the cold feeling when she thought about him. So long as he was within the castle walls, she felt the need to escape. In a short time her father and Lord Oakley would be headed towards the open hills, but until then, she would ride to the ocean and stay there until the stench of the man’s presence was gone.
She turned on her heel and crossed her bedchamber, dropping the bedcovers to the floor as she pulled on a red velvet robe. Quietly, she opened her door and stole down the hall to the room where the maidservants slept. Slipping in and closing the door behind her, she crossed over to where Emelie lay sleeping.
Catherine spoke with hushed urgency, gently shaking her shoulder. “Make haste, Emelie. You must rise!”
“Milady! Is something wrong?” She sat up, rubbing her eyes.
“Shh!” Catherine put her finger to her lips. “Ready yourself and then come to my chambers. I wish to ride this morning before the others arise!” Turning to Elizabeth, who was now awake, Catherine said, “Tell Jarrid to ready our horses, and be quick about it. Speak to no one of my plans.”
Elizabeth wasted no time in scrambling to her feet.
Back in her chambers, Catherine felt the urgency grow as the light outside began to spread. Impatiently, she pulled on a burgundy velvet gown with gold-beaded trim above the elbows and waist and gold silk that peeked out from the slashed sleeves and skirt.
Emelie hurried in, lending a hand to tie the laces at the back of the dress and then to tuck Catherine’s hair into a tight braid.
Signaling for her maid to keep quiet, Catherine headed for the stairs leading to the kitchen, preferring to avoid the great hall where many of the guests would lie, having fallen asleep in their drunken stupor.
The cook, a jolly, plump woman, was the only one about, busy preparing breads and meats for Lord Roberts and his guests that morning. Startled by the sudden presence of her mistress, she dropped into a deep curtsy. Catherine waived it away as she hurried out the door to the courtyard.
Catherine focused on the two figures ahead of her, Elizabeth and Jarrid, who obediently stood holding the horses. She could hear Emelie’s panting breath behind her as Catherine’s long strides brought her fast to the stables. Without a word, Catherine took Jarrid’s hand as he assisted her onto her saddle and looked around impatiently, waiting for Emelie to mount her horse. Confident that no one was watching them depart, Catherine urged her horse toward the gates. It was not until their horses were a good distance from the castle walls that Catherine began to relax.
Turning her head, she hid a smile. What, Catherine wondered, must Emelie be thinking? One moment she was awoken from sleep, the next moment the poor girl is atop a horse, all before the birds had stirred. Still, Catherine had not offered her any explanation, for her reasons to leave the castle this morning were her own. Lord Oakley would be staying with them for a few days and Catherine had no desire to feel the lecherous eyes of Lord Oakley dirty her any more than she was required to. She turned her horse for the port, determined to put as much distance between them as possible.
≈
Galen had awoken early that morning, still sorely agitated from Lord Oakley’s goading. He felt helpless at not being able to strike back at Lord Oakley for his words, his lewd expressions toward Catherine, and the smug looks that Lord Oakley directed his way. Under the table Galen had found Catherine’s hands, clenched in tight fists, and held them in his, trying to protect her as well as he could. Loathsome or not, Lord Oakley was Lord Roberts’ guest, and by Lord Roberts’ law, all guests were to be treated with respect.
He put his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Today would be a hard day of training, Galen thought, sharpening his skills as well as the squires’. He would fashion a post and hay in the likeness of Lord Oakley, and shred it to ribbons. Though it would bring immense satisfaction to him, it would do little to ease Catherine’s mind. She spoke little last night, but he knew only too well the contempt she held for Lord Oakley.
It was no secret that Lord Oakley had an interest in Catherine. It was apparent that Lord Roberts had no intention of entertaining Lord Oakley’s repeated requests for Catherine’s hand in marriage, but that did little to put Galen at ease. Lord Oakley was a constant thorn in his side.
Catherine is mine, Galen thought fiercely, and always will be.
Unable to lie still any longer, he got up and crossed his chamber to the chair where his clothes lay. As he passed the window, movement at the gate caught his eye. His brow furrowed as he watched Catherine’s and Emelie’s horses race away from the castle.
Chapter 9
“Ok, Eryn. I guess we can stop now.” Troy began unhooking the gear he had strapped to his waist. “I’m sure you have plenty of shots I can use.”
Eryn rolled her neck to loosen up the muscles. The past three hours had been a new and welcome experience for her, having never before explored the sports side of photography. She was actually excited about the pictures she’d gotten. The strain of gripping the rock, his arms and legs pushing his body upwards, showed off the contour of Troy’s lean, hard muscles. Definitely not a difficult subject to look at through the lens, she thought.
He was roguishly handsome, even more so than Eryn remembered from the party. He was definitely not a suit man. Outdoors was his element, among the water, the cliffs, and the sun.
She couldn’t deny he was attractive and that he had a certain amount of charisma, but there was also something about him that bothered her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. His smile was smooth and persuasive, his eyes cool and calculating with a hint of malice. With his good looks and endless charm, though, she had no doubt he could seduce a woman into instant submission if given the chance.
“Oh, I think you’ll like what I got.” Eryn turn
ed and began packing up her flashes and stands. “You’re a natural.”
“You just bring out the best in me.” He was suddenly behind her, giving her little room to move between him and her camera case.
Startled, she turned quickly and lost her footing in the soft sand. She cursed softly, struggling to maintain her balance.
He caught her around her waist. “Gotcha.”
For the longest moment they stood inches apart, his hands firmly on her hips, holding her steady. She felt the smoldering heat from his eyes as they traveled down the length of her neck, pausing when he spotted her wildly beating pulse in the soft hollow of her throat. A satisfied smile played upon his mouth. Suddenly, she did feel like the prey. Oh, he was good.
“Yes. I think I definitely need to hire you again,” he murmured. “Maybe a family portrait.”
So, he is married after all, she thought with relief. Eryn gently grasped his wrists and took his hands off of her while carefully stepping sideways. Somebody had to keep this professional. She guessed that would be her.
“Sure. Anytime. How many children to you have?”
“One, if you can count my dog as a kid.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her a knee-weakening grin.
She wondered if he practiced that or if it came naturally. That smile probably got him everything he wanted.
“Sometimes that’s all a couple needs,” Eryn said. “A dog, I mean.”
“Couple? No, it’s just me and Duke, living the bachelor life.”
“So you’re not married?” She realized that came out with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Why, are you interested?” he teased.
“No,” she said quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. “I have a friend. She was at the party last night.”
“I’m pretty sure I checked out all the women there. You were by far the most attractive.”
He’s relentless, she thought, shaking her head. She squatted down to put her lenses in the case and then snapped the case closed. Standing up, she faced him. “And very married.”
“That doesn’t make you any less attractive to me.” His attention drifted over her shoulder to something behind her. “Hey, Bryce. Here to watch your wife in action?” He winked at her.
Eryn spun around, feeling a cold sweat pop out of every pore on her body. She should have known Bryce couldn’t stay away, but his timing could not have been worse.
Tension throbbed in Bryce’s clenched jaw. “How’s it going, Troy?”
Troy turned and walked to his gear. “You’ve got quite a wife there, Bryce. She’s a real professional.” He stuffed the ropes and other gear into his bags and slung them over his shoulder. “Call me when you have those ready,” he said to Eryn. “I’d like to look them over with you.”
He’s tormenting Bryce on purpose, Eryn thought, flashing Troy a warning glare. She could almost hear Bryce’s muscles tighten up.
“Take it easy, man.” Troy slapped Bryce’s shoulder as he turned to leave.
Bryce managed to muster a grunting noise as they watched him walk to his truck and sling his bags into the back of it.
“I don’t like him.” There was finality to Bryce’s tone. He looked somber, hands shoved in his pockets, head turned downward, with a scowl on his face.
She almost felt sorry for him. Eryn went to him and slid her arms around his waist, lifting her face to say, “Why don’t you help me get this stuff to my car and then I’ll treat you to happy hour?”
He stared down at her, his expression dark.
“Come on. Like old times, remember?” Stretching up on her tiptoes, she softly kissed his neck and flicked her tongue just below his ear. She smiled to herself when she heard a catch in his breath and felt his chest beneath her hands tense.
≈
“Here, let me top that off for you.” Eryn poised the bottle over Bryce’s cup.
“No, I’m good. I have a…”
“I know, I know, a meeting in the morning.” She put the bottle down and twisted it into the sand next to the soda. Like old times, but this time they didn’t have to pilfer the bottles from their parents’ wet bar before sneaking down to the beach to party.
The evening was perfect, with the sun still high enough above the horizon to warm the shore. They settled on a spot next to a cliff in a protected cove, shielded from the off-shore breeze, away from wandering eyes. The seagulls were starting to huddle together on the beach in clusters, having spent the day scavenging for food. All was quiet, except for the soft lull of the waves.
Eryn leaned up against Bryce’s shoulder, feeling his body relax against hers, his elbows resting on the blanket that covered their knees. She traced the line of Bryce’s muscle along his arm and smiled as he flexed it in response. What would it be like, she thought, if he would just turn to her and kiss her, with no other reason than to show her he loved and wanted her? What would it be like if he held her face in his hands, pressed his mouth hotly to hers, and tasted her lips? Was there such a thing as two people so in love, that just being around each other made it impossible to keep hands off one another?
She closed her eyes against a headiness that started to inch its way up her neck and glide over the top of her head, like millions of tiny fingers kneading through her memory. She felt strangely detached, stuck somewhere between here and there. The sound of voices and laughter was suspended somewhere in that space, too. Her mind was awash with white before his face came into focus. Her breath caught in her throat. He was so close. If only she could reach out and touch him this time…
His lips came painfully close to hers. She dared not move. She so desperately wanted to feel his lips upon hers.
He hesitated a moment before he drew closer and softly kissed her cheek. His fingers traced the softness of her lips, marveling at their fullness. “May I?”
“I pray that you will hesitate no longer,” she whispered. Her breath was lost as his kiss consumed her, the hot silk of his tongue smooth against hers. Never before had she been kissed so thoroughly, so passionately, and with such abandon. She discovered she was not a fragile flower that would crush under the weight of such passion, but a woman who could give as much pleasure as she took. Boldly she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, arching her back as his lips traveled down her neck, grazing the edge of her gown...
Eryn’s senses screamed. Both her mind and body were on fire, erasing the boundaries between them, blurring the line between dreams and reality. Her eyes flew open and her body instantly stiffened. It was so fast, too blurred… and then it was gone, leaving her heart pounding in her chest.
Bryce leaned away, his startled, cool gray eyes staring into hers. “Are you all right?”
She shivered. Her dress, perfect for the warmth earlier in the day, gave little protection in the cooling air. “Uh, yeah. I’m…I’m okay.” She ran her hands over her face. “I just thought I heard some voices.”
“Come here.” Bryce lay back and tugged her down beside him, pulling the blanket over their bodies.
With her hand on his solid chest, the beat of his heart against her cheek, and with Bryce’s arms firmly around her, she should have felt secure. But instead she was unsettled. Okay, so maybe their marriage wasn’t perfect, but he was here, sharing his life with her every day. Shouldn’t that be enough? She wanted so desperately to say yes, but now something was starting to come between them - or someone, she corrected herself. This was the third time the man in her dream had penetrated her psyche, totally getting into her head. He seemed to be calling her. She shivered again.
“We’d better go,” she said, pushing herself up.
They packed what was left of their drinks and with the blanket wrapped around her, they walked back towards the car.
Bryce gestured down the beach at a campfire. “They’re probably not even old enough to drink.”
She stopped and stared at the smiling faces illuminated by the flames. Bursts of laughter mingled with the popp
ing of the wood, as the group around the fire tipped back bottles of beer and wine. Was Bryce kidding? Maybe the heat rising off the fire distorted their faces. To her they all looked way older than twenty-one. She blinked and then rubbed her eyes.
Her body tensed and the shivering began again, this time uncontrollably.
“Come on. Let’s go home.” Bryce held her close and pulled her towards the parking lot, leaving the fire and laughter behind.
Chapter 10
Their horses slowed to a stop just beyond the still-quiet village. Catherine watched the ships in the port rock lazily in the rippling waters while their crews set about their morning duties.
To her dismay, the breeze coming off the ocean barely managed to stir the air’s heaviness and her grip on the reins tightened as she fought the onslaught of heat. Memories of her meeting with Jonathan swirled inside her, and some instinct told her the heat she felt was not from the sun. Thoughts of him were sending a fever surging through her body.
“Master Jonathan is up and about early, milady,” Emelie said, pointing to La Helena.
At the base of the plank leading to the ship, Jonathan was opening boxes, inspecting the contents, and putting out goods. His discarded shirt lay on one of the cargo boxes beside him. Catherine followed the line from his broad shoulders down to his trim waist. She bit her lower lip. This would be so much easier if he would simply keep his shirt on.
“Quickly, milady,” Emelie urged her. “He is alone now, but the sun rises higher and others will be coming.”
Crimson stained Catherine’s cheeks as she realized how intently she had been staring. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to deny what she felt, but the words refused to come.
Emelie smiled and nodded encouragingly.
“I am here for no other reason, Emelie, than to spend time away from the castle this morning,” Catherine protested. “The stench of Lord Oakley was too much for me to bear this morning.”
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