Page 40 of Beloved Enemy
Within another half hour, the gray dusk had given way to pitch blackness, and Charlotte only became more frightened. The forest was ten times more scary at night without a tent, or Reid, or an army of forty men.
After wandering aimlessly, fruitlessly, for some time, Charlotte realized with a sinking heart that her best bet might be to wait out the darkness. Stumbling through the dense, unfamiliar forest at night with no clear direction was both pointless and terrifying. She couldn’t continue. The sounds of the forest had already begun to shift—no longer the chirping of birds or the rustling of small animals, but the eerie creaks and groans of trees and the occasional unsettling call of something unknown.
She shivered, hugging herself tightly, both for warmth and comfort. It was simply too dangerous to keep moving in the dark. The smartest choice was to find a place to hunker down until daylight returned. Maybe then, with the sun's help, she could retrace her steps and find her way back to the loch, and eventually, to Kingswood.
Reluctantly, Charlotte looked around for a suitable spot, settling on a cluster of low-hanging branches under a large pine that might offer some shelter. She huddled beneath them, trying to make herself as small as possible, and wrapped her arms around her knees.
The darkness closed in, and she tried to steel herself against the fear that threatened to overtake what little calm remained. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent her heart racing, but she forced herself to stay still, to breathe slowly. She couldn’t afford to lose herself to panic.
Another hour passed in agonizing silence, broken only by the occasional sounds of the night. Her body ached from the cold and the hard ground, and the tension wrought by fear, and her mind teetered on the edge of despair when a new sound cutthrough the quiet—a sound that didn’t belong in the forest. She stiffened, straining to listen. It was faint at first, but then it grew clearer, more distinct. A voice.
She held her breath, hardly daring to believe it. Someone was calling her name.
Charlotte’s heart pounded in her chest as she scrambled to her feet, her fear momentarily forgotten. She fought against the pine boughs that tangled in her hair as she stood too quickly, rising into the branches.
Her hair freed, she listened intently, and there it was again, more urgent this time. The voice was closer, and suddenly, she recognized it—Reid.
A wave of overwhelming joy crashed over her, nearly bringing her to her knees. She wasn’t alone. Reid was here, searching for her. The relief was so intense that she could hardly find her voice, but she forced herself to call out, to let him know she was there.
“Reid!” she cried, her voice breaking with emotion. “I’m here!”
Though her voice sounded loud in the quiet forest, she heard Reid call her name in the same manner as he had before, as if he were still searching and hadn’t heard her cry.
Charlotte called again and began to move in the direction of his voice.
When next she heard her name, Reid’s tone suggested he’d heard her, his inflection weighted more by irritation than merely the detached persistence she’d detected at first.
“Stay where ye are!” he shouted. “And call out again.”
“I’m here!” She said, stopping in her tracks. She peered into the inky gloom of the woods, which was suddenly so much less terrifying now that Reid was here, but she could see next to nothing. Everything was dark and shadowy, and anythingbeyond ten feet from where she stood was only a haze of blackness. “Here!” She repeated, just as loudly.
The sound of a metallic jangle came to her, part of the horse’s gear, she guessed, but it was another full minute before she discerned the shape of a broad mounted figure emerging from the darkness. The horse moved slowly, its hooves muffled by the soft forest floor, but there was no mistaking the solid silhouette of Reid atop his steed.
She called out once more, the gladness of relief wobbling her voice. “Reid!”
He dismounted at the same time Charlotte rushed forward, closing the distance between them.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, he began stomping toward her, scolding her.
“Jesus Christus, Charlotte,” he blasphemed. “By all that’s holy, how did ye—?”
She launched herself at him, against the solid wall of his chest, effectively cutting off his reprimand, possibly stunning him—herself to some degree as well. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, her face buried against him as she trembled with relief.
"How did ye manage to get so lost?" he muttered, his voice still edged with irritation.
His hands landed stiffly on her arms, steadying her, and Charlotte closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of his reluctant embrace.
“I don’t know exactly,” she whimpered, nearly overcome, close to tears, “but oh, my God, it’s scary out here.”
For a moment, Reid remained still. Then, he tentatively slid his hands around her, patting her back in what seemed to be an attempt at reassurance. The gesture was slow and awkward, only making Charlotte more aware of how impulsively she hadthrown herself into his arms and reminding her of what she perceived as his constant annoyance with her.
Lifting her hands away from his strong back, she began to separate herself from him, more than grateful now for the disturbing darkness, assuming it would prevent him from seeing her sudden, heated flush. But the hands at her back did not yield to her movement and Charlotte was trapped in his arms.
She moved her gaze upward, her eyes tracing the muted, familiar patterns of his breacan, the dark fabric blending into the shadows but still discernible as it was only inches from her face. Her breath caught as her gaze continued to travel, taking in the rise and fall of his chest before settling on the prominent curve of his Adam’s apple, which bobbed slightly as he swallowed. The rough stubble on his square jaw was just visible, casting faint shadows that accentuated his strong features. Even in the darkness, the hard lines of his face were unmistakable, and the nearness of him sent a curious shiver through her, the heat of her blush now an afterthought as she stood so close, still pressed against him.
She met his eyes, which seemed to glitter in the nighttime forest like shiny stones. The intensity in his gaze held her captive, and for a long, silent moment, they stared at each other, neither speaking, neither moving.
Fear, relief, and the entire world around her faded until she knew only him. And because he seemed equally absorbed as she was, his expression becoming ridiculously fierce, she was somehow not surprised when he lowered his head and kissed her.
