Page 39 of The Hellion and the Captain
“You do,” he confirmed. “Next time, try this.”
He stopped behind her, his arms closing around her waist. “When you bring it back that way, turn left and then make it seem like you are fully committed before you make a quick movement with your feet. Make sense?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Try again.”
He backed her up as they each retook their positions.
As she approached, she brought the ball backward, and then, before he could even blink, she did exactly what he said, only instead of fully committing to her deke, she tapped it between his legs and ran around him toward the two trees, sending it flying between them.
“Goal!” she said, lifting her fists and running in a circle.
Rhys laughed, shaking his head inadmiration as he watched her celebration. “Well done, Emmaline. You’re a quick study.”
Emmaline beamed at his praise.
Rhys closed the distance between them, even as unease filled him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, reading him.
He paused, wondering how much he should tell her. “I am worried.”
“That I will not be able to handle myself on the field?”
“No.” He shook his head. “ThatIwon’t.”
She blinked. “Rhys, you’ve been playing forever. What do you have to be worried about?”
“I have been. But I’ve never played with you on the field.” He stepped closer toward her. “I am worried that I might not be an appropriate judge of how to act with you while we are playing football.”
“Rhys…” she breathed, her eyes widening. “I thought that we were fine. That we were nothing to one another.”
“We cannot be anything more than this,” he said, but his words didn’t match the draw he felt toward her. One that, from her expression, she also felt.
“Then why?—”
“I can’t get you off my mind. Maybe a taste will be enough for me to let that desire go,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In the past, he had always tired of women. Perhaps, after a few more stolen moments with her, they would find what they needed and be able to return to their friendship without anything lingering.
“I should be insulted,” she said, quirking an eyebrow, and he looked down at her, so close to him that he could see every one of those freckles that dotted her nose. Someday, he would love to count them. “You think being with me once more would be enough for you?”
A flash of insecurity crossed over her face. It was so rare tosee on Emmaline – a woman who had enough confidence to play with a football club of men – that he couldn’t help but to question it, even if it did dampen their current flirtation.
“I never meant to insult you,” he said quietly, lacing the fingers of both of their hands together.
“No, of course not,” she said, dropping her gaze, a forced smile on her face when she returned it. “I was just teasing.”
“But there was more to it,” he stated. “What concerns you?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly.
“Emmaline,” he said firmly. “Tell me.”
“You are right,” she said, pressing her lips together. “You probably will tire of me. Everyone does. I am a good time. Great for a bit of fun in the gardens at a party, but I am not the woman anyone wants to spend more time with. To be serious about. To marry.”
She tried to smile again but fell short this time, rendering Rhys speechless. To think that anyone had ever made this woman feel anything less than she was made him want to find whoever had done so and put a fist through their face. No one deserved her. Least of all him.
“Who?” he breathed. “Who made you feel like this?”
