Page 20 of The Hellion and the Captain
“Are you my keeper, Mr. Lockwood?” she asked, all fear wiped away, only for that sass he secretly admired to remain. “I do not recall asking for your permission.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I am concerned for your safety, Miss Whitmore. I am sure you can appreciate that.”
“Ever the protector,” she said, rounding the table to sit across from Lily, in Williams’ seat — meaning the woman was now sitting right beside him. She patted his arm. “I appreciate your concern for me.”
“I never said?—”
“Earlier, you were asking where Emmaline was,” Lily said, a devilish glint to her eye. Rhys suddenly realized just what had happened. He had opened his big mouth and asked something he never should have asked, and Lily had somehow sent word to her friend, who had now arrived at the pub just to annoy him. Wonderful.
“I was only curious,” he said through gritted teeth, aware that many of the players were now staring at him with interest. “You’re always together.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Emmaline said, reaching out and grabbing a half-cup of ale.
“That’s not yours,” he said.
She stopped with the cup halfway to her mouth. “It isn’t?”
“No. It was Williams’. But I suppose it doesn’t much matter as he buggeredoff.”
“Williams,” she said, her body stiff, although for what reason he couldn’t imagine. “I’m not sure I’ve met him.”
“He just joined the club,” Rhys said. “Took Joey’s place.”
For some reason, he had no interest in speaking about another man with her.
“We must introduce you very soon, Emmaline,” Lily said unhelpfully, and Rhys and Miss Whitmore both turned and glared at her. Apparently, Miss Whitmore also didn’t appreciate being set up.
“I would look forward to that very much,” Miss Whitmore said through gritted teeth before her smile returned. What kind of game was she playing? “From what I have heard about him, he is a fine addition to the club. Good choice, Mr. Lockwood.”
“What could you possibly have heard about him? It would be hard to learn anything about the man, for he barely speaks,” Rhys said.
“I’m sure he has good reason not to,” Emmaline returned, and he wondered why she would care about defending a man she had never met.
Unless she had, and that was the reason for the concern he had read on her face. Had Williams done something to her? It was hard to imagine, for she was a strong woman and didn’t seem like one to ever back away from a challenge, but then one never knew.
He would have to steal a moment alone with her to get to the bottom of this. If Williams had done anything contrary to the ethics of the team, he needed to know, and he would rather know now, before it was too late.
Rhys leaned in closer to Miss Whitmore, his gaze intense. “Perhaps you could enlighten me then, Miss Whitmore. What good reason might a man have for being so evasive and aloof?”
Miss Whitmore met his stare defiantly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Why, Mr. Lockwood, Iwould have thought a man of your intellect could deduce such a thing. Maybe he simply finds his present company...lacking.”
“Lacking?” Rhys scoffed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his irritation. “I’ll have you know, Miss Whitmore, that the men on this team are the finest in Manchester. Williams should count himself lucky to be among them.”
“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Miss Whitmore replied airily, taking a sip of the ale. Unlike most ladies — Lily included — she didn’t make a face at the taste, but rather, seemed to enjoy it. “Perhaps he prefers more... stimulating conversation.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow, his competitive nature rising to the challenge. “Conversation you believe that someone like you would supply?”
“I don’tbelieve, Mr. Lockwood. I know.” Emmaline’s lips curved into a confident smile. “But I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with my wit and charm. I know how easily a man like you can be distracted.”
“Is that so?” Rhys growled. “I assure you, Miss Whitmore, I am as focused a man you have ever met. I will not be distracted, especially not by a woman who only thinks herself clever.”
“I don’t believe you’ve ever met a woman with the wit that could properly keep a man engaged,” Emmaline retorted, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Perhaps that’s why you find yourself so unfulfilled in your personal life.”
Rhys stiffened slightly, surprised by her boldness and how her words had struck him, deep in his soul. He had never spoken of his true longings to another, so it was not as though she actually had any knowledge of what he sought. She had just gotten lucky with her barb. He quickly schooled his features, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had affected him.
“My personal life is none of your concern,Miss Whitmore,” he said coolly. “But I can assure you, I am quite content.”
“Of course you are,” Emmaline replied, her tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re a man who spends all his time on the football pitch or in a bank, surrounded by other men, with no wife or children to speak of. Who spends his nights in a pub, forcing the men of his club to spend time with him so that he is not alone. The very picture of contentment.”
