Page 25 of The Hellion and the Captain
“Very well,” he said. “But if it starts to bother you more, tell me. We don’t need you pushing through pain only to be hurt before the season begins.”
“Of course not,” she said.
“I’ll follow you in,” he said, gesturing to the door, and Emmaline fumbled over her words as she tried to find an excuse.
“I didn’t bring anything to change into today as I didn’t know we had this building,” she said. “I’ll just be on my way home.”
“Lord Harcourt provided us additional clothes in team colors,” he said. “He’s become rather generous since Lily married Colin. Come in.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“What is with you, Williams? Why do you want nothing to do with the club? Think you’re too good for us?”
Emmaline froze, for once, finding nothing to say. There was only one thing she could do.
“Very well,” she said. “Lead the way.”
She tried to slip in quickly after Rhys, darting around to the corner, keeping her gaze down, although she couldn’t help but lift her eyes now and then to the men in their various states of dress. None were bare before her, thankfully, and she turned around, once again focused on her shoes as she kept her gaze lowered and her attention away from the rest of them as best she could.
She especially wanted no glimpse of Colin, her best friend’s husband.
Fortunately, no one seemed intent on staying around, and quickly cleared out of the room. Even Rhys walked out with Colin, talking intently about a goal scoring strategy, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally, blessedly, alone.
She shouldn’t take a chance to change here, but the truth was, she was freezing, and she worried that if she travelled all the way back to Ellesmere Park wearing wet clothing, especially with the bruise she knew would be growing over her ribs, she could catch cold, which she most certainly didn’t have time for.
She hid behind the corner wall as she quickly changed her pants into a pair from the pile. It had a drawstring, which she tightened as far as she could, then had to roll it over a few times so that they wouldn’t be too big or too long.
She began to peel off the shirt that had molded to her body, though she wouldn’t touch the binding that waswrapped around her chest, holding her breasts close against her. It was constricting, but it was nothing for a woman who was used to a corset nearly cutting off her airway half her life.
She was still wrangling the wet shirt over her head, one arm half-trapped, when she heard a creak behind her.
She whipped her head around as far as the material allowed to see who had entered, her eyes connecting with Rhys, who stood staring down at her, blinking.
She had been caught.
But could she still save herself?
Chapter Nine
“Williams?” Rhys said, even though somewhere, deep inside of him, he knew very well that this wasn’t Williams.
Unless Williams had a feminine, gentle slope to his shoulder.
A chin that, at this angle, no longer hidden by a cap, showcased a beautiful face, although one marred by rain which had dirtied it. Whether that was mud or soot or some kind of makeup that streaked those cheeks, Rhys wasn’t sure.
Dark hair was half caught in a plait, half trailing over bare shoulders. Then there were those long eyelashes over violet eyes that were far too familiar.
Worst of all was the red mark growing in size along her ribs and up beneath that binding.
“I thought you were gone,” was all he – she? – said while still struggling with the wet clothing.
“I came back,” he said foolishly, as his mind, gut, and emotions were all at war inside of him.
Finally, he could ignore the truth no longer, as much as he really, truly wanted to.
“Emmaline?”
Silence reigned for a moment.
