Page 32 of The Hellion and the Captain
It had everything to do with this woman before him. A woman who had the potential to destroy everything that he had built for himself.
But somehow, he had a feeling that she just might be worth it.
Chapter Eleven
“So, this is it,” Rhys said, looking around him as Emmaline stared at him in turn.
He stood in the middle of her sacred space, this field that had become her place of solace, inspiration, and comfort.
Somehow, oddly, he belonged.
“This is it,” she said, holding her arms open as she turned in a circle.
She had thought that when he promised to mentor her one-on-one, it was just an errant comment, that he wouldn’t have any additional time between his responsibilities to the club and the bank.
It appeared she had been wrong. The day after their impromptu meeting at Lily and Colin’s, a note had appeared at her house asking if she would be available to meet the next evening. Due to the players’ working schedules, the club practiced twice a week—usually Saturday mornings if they didn’t have a game, and then one evening during the week.
Which, Rhys told her, gave them plenty of other evenings to work on her strength and stamina.
When she wrote back, asking if he could meet her in the clearing near her house, her note complete with a map, she was surprised when he readily accepted without a word of complaint.
She hadn’t been prepared for how it would feel to have him standing in this space that had become so special to her.
She tried to hide her emotion as she faced him, hands on her hips, legs spread in a ready stance. She was dressed similarly to him, in knee-length knickerbockers, woolen stockings to her knees, heavy leather boots, and a collared cotton shirt, although his was one in faded club colors of maroon and cream. She had still bound her breasts, although not as tightly as usual, for today was solely for support and not disguise.
She had also dispensed with the cap, instead pinning her plait tightly to her head.
She waited for him to pass her the ball sitting next to him, but he only stood there in his usual stance, arms crossed over his chest.
“I thought we were practicing,” she called out, and he shook his head. It was only when his rare smile appeared that she knew she was in trouble.
“We start with running,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose, already regretting this decision.
He slowly ran toward her, coming to a stop beside her.
“This clearing is perfect,” he said. “Ten times between the big oak over there and the smaller ash on this side.”
Emmaline followed his finger from one side to the other.
“That must be over 200 yards.”
“I would guess that’s correct.”
“But—”
He looked at her and arched an eyebrow. She swallowed her complaint.
“Very well.”
She took off at a slow run to last for the entireten crossings, and she had gone but a few steps when he was beside her, keeping pace.
“What are you doing?” she said, not yet losing her breath.
“Running with you.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” He grinned.
