The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(37)

“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.

The brutes hardly knew their own strength and would likely injure the poor woman.

“I saw you warning away the men,” she yelled to him.

“If we want to reach Kenshire by dark—”

“You don’t have time to toss a snowball?”

The men looked at him and then Emma and back again. He’d like to toss her into his bed and be done with it. But a snowball? “Nay.”

He turned and another landed square on his neck, its wetness already seeping into his tunic. Exactly what he deserved for taking off the cloak.

When Garrick spun back around, he found Emma holding her stomach in laughter. More than one of his men wore a smirk.

If she wanted a snowball fight, then by God he’d give her one.

When he lowered his gloved hands into the snow, just enough to form a decent-sized ball, he caught the look of surprise on his captain’s face.

Garrick wasn’t known for his frivolity, after all.

He’d stopped the men because he feared they would accidentally hurt her. Aye, the legs should be safe. He took aim and threw his missile gently, connecting exactly where he’d intended.

By now the others were fully mounted, watching, but Garrick knew it wasn’t over. He didn’t wait for her to come at him this time, but instead bent down to form another ball. He stood, pulled back his arm, and was pelted square in the face this time.

Emma laughed so loudly Garrick was sure the men who’d attacked them in Scotland would hear and come finish the job they’d started.

He reached her in a few short strides, grabbed her arm, which was already prepared to finish him with another snowy bit of ammunition, and held it in the air.

“You, my lady, are a menace.”

“You, my lord, have poor aim.”

Garrick would like to show her how untrue that statement was—and he very nearly told her so—until he remembered the men were watching them from all sides.

“I’m afraid we’ll be forced to call a truce.” He let go of her arm.

“Truce? More like a win for the fairer sex.”

At that simple word, his cock stirred and hardened. Her ability to affect him so was unparalleled.

“Very well, a win. What is to be your prize?”

Though he’d said it low enough for her ears only, Garrick regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. There was only one prize he wanted to give her.

Rather than say something else equally as foolish, he turned and walked away.

They hadn’t spoken since, but he couldn’t stop thinking of that moment. Her laughter. The snow crystals collecting on her long lashes.

“Clave, we need to talk,” said Geoffrey.

Garrick was equally as anxious to speak with the earl.

Without a backward glance, Emma rushed past him toward the stables, leaving them to make their way to the keep.

“How is Nella?” Garrick asked.

“Emma will be pleased to learn she is doing just fine. Whatever ailment afflicted her seems to have disappeared.” If Geoffrey thought it odd for him to inquire after Emma’s horse, he didn’t say so.

Garrick breathed a bit easier at the news. He’d only remembered the horse’s condition as they passed through the gatehouse. Her nervous posture had reminded him. Knowing how much she cared for her beloved horse, he’d hoped, for her sake, the animal had recovered.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Instead of leading him into the great hall, Geoffrey brought him directly to the solar, where they sat in front of the hearth.

“What happened?” Arms crossed, eyes blazing, Geoffrey Waryn was not a man easily dismissed.