Page 30 of Suddenly a Bride
Before Gwyneth could run into the hall, Geoffrey was at Edmund’s side, his laughter replaced by concern.
“Let me help you.”
“Do not trouble yourself.” Edmund pushed his friend’s hands away, got his good leg beneath him, and pushed himself up to stand.
Geoffrey lingered near, his eyes narrowed with uncertainty.
“Now you see why I don’t train with you any more,” Edmund said. “You’re too worried you’ll hurt me.”
Gwyneth thought his good spirits sounded forced.
“Edmund—”
“Go find your bed, Geoff. I’m not finished yet.”
Geoffrey looked as though he wanted to say more but only nodded. “A good night to you, then.”
Edmund waited for his friend to leave, and only then did he lean against the table and frown at the pain. He looked at his useless leg and thought again how much had changed in his life from one skirmish gone wrong. He picked up the sword from where it had slid beneath the table.
Suddenly he heard a suspicious noise, but it was coming from the wrong corridor to be Geoff. Who would be spying on him?
Gwyneth.
She was there again in the shadows,his wife, looking at his foolishness.
“Gwyneth,” he said sternly.
He saw her flinch, but she came out of the dark with a steadiness he reluctantly admired. She stopped before him, and her gaze flickered between his weapons, then moved up his body. When she lingered on his chest, he knew she only stared at his scars. But his body wouldn’t listen, and he was suddenly so aroused it was painful.
“You must stop spying on me,” he said, trying to rein in his anger with this whole frustrating situation.
She lifted her chin with clear defiance and stared into his face. “I am not spying on you, Edmund, although I admit it looks otherwise.”
She dared to lie to him outright? He dropped his weapon, caught her by the upper arms, and leaned down into her face. Still she showed no fear, although he wanted to see it in her eyes. Maybe then she’d leave him alone—and leave his thoughts.
“What could you be doing in the shadows of my castle at this time of night?” he demanded.
“Only what I have been trained to do since I was a young girl,” she said in a calm voice. “It is always a woman’s duty to ensure that every candle is out, every fire safely banked.”
“I do all that myself.” He watched in amazement as her gaze lingered on his mouth. She wasn’t fighting him either, just letting him touch her.
“Then perhaps you need to allow others to help you. Geoffrey was trying to.”
Her voice had softened, and he found himself pulling her even nearer, until her gown brushed against his breeches—which she could see were concealing little if she thought to look down. So she wanted to help him? How did it help him to have her constantly putting her slender body before him, constantly tempting him?
“I need no help,” he whispered.
He pulled her hard against him, and she gave a little gasp. He hoped it meant she finally understood how much power he had over her. But to himself, it only proved how little control he had. He wanted to clasp her hips and press himself against her. He wanted to take her mouth and understand the mystery of her. Her breasts were hard points against his chest, and this fleeting contact with her body was maddening.
And still she looked up at him, though now her own breath seemed to tremble quickly between her lips. “Maybe you do not need help, but I want to offer it. Will you not give me a chance?”
“I’m trying.”
He was deliberately misleading her, and part of him hated the deception. He let her go, and she stumbled away from him, wide-eyed. He saw the quick rise and fall of her breasts, but she composed herself and nodded her head.
“Then that is a start,” she said. “Might I stay with you longer?”
“Go to bed, Gwyneth.”
