Again (29 page)

“But you needed me, Bryce,” Brandi said soothingly.
 
“You were hurting and you needed me.”

He turned to glare at her. “Yeah, like Eryn would understand that.”
 
He shoved his hand through his hair.
 
“No, it was unforgivable.”

Brandi leaned back in the lounge chair, turning her face to the sun, and placing her hand on her belly.
 
“What if you got me pregnant?
 
Are you ready to deal with that?”

He shot her a deadly look.
 
His anger towards her now matched his anger at himself. “I should kick your scrawny ass out of here right now,” he threatened.

Her smile, one that had been hovering on her face for the last two days, turned smug.
 
“Ah, but then I would tell her, wouldn’t I?”

“Tell me what?”

Bryce stood up quickly to face Eryn, a weak smile barely hiding his anguish.
 
“Hey, you’re back.”
 
He pulled her toward him, but she resisted.

“Tell me what?”
 
Eryn repeated, looked expectantly from Bryce to Brandi.

“Well?”

Brandi slid her sunglasses down her nose and looked at Bryce and then laughed.
 
“Big surprise.”

Bryce put his arm around Eryn and led her towards the house.
 
She tried to shrug him off, but he held tight.
 
Once inside, he turned her face towards him and kissed her, a gentle, lingering kiss that slowly deepened.

Something was wrong, Eryn thought.
 
She could feel it in the way he kissed her.
 
Pushing against his chest, she managed to break free and step back.
 
“What surprise?”

She felt his hardness pressed against her belly as he pulled her closer to him again.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” he said, dropping light, feathery kisses on her lips.
 
“Let’s go upstairs.”
 
His fingers whispered a trail, starting behind her ear, down her neck, slipping her strap from her shoulder, his lips not far behind.

Gone was the coldness and demanding persona Bryce always wore as a second skin.
 
Here, thought Eryn, was desperation and an eagerness to please.
 
Did he feel
that
guilty about forgetting her art gallery opening?
 

He picked her up and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom, locking the door behind them.
 
Two steps into the room and he stopped, closing his eyes for a long moment, but not before Eryn saw the anguish in his eyes.
 
She started to ask what was bothering him, but his mouth crushed her question mid-breath.

He laid her gently on the bed, his eyes raking the curves of her body, before towering above her, his muscular thighs straddling her hips.

Eryn studied Bryce while his fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.
 
Her eyes were intent on the slight tremor in his hands.
 
Once or twice he swallowed as if it hurt, like tasting bile and forcing it back down before it could surface.

His shirt fell open, exposing his broad chest and hard abs that rippled towards his waistband.
 
His chest heaved now with ragged breaths when Eryn stroked the length of his stomach.

Something about this was all wrong, she thought, her senses acutely aware of his unease.
 
He was normally too confident to be fumbling with his clothes.
 
Their lovemaking had always taken place on his home field, played by his rules.
 
Now he just seemed lost, like someone had just misplaced the playbook.

“Hey, you guys?”
 
The knock that followed was not a timid one, but one demanding attention.

Bryce cursed under his breath.
 
“No!”
 
That one word said more than “no.”
 
It contained anger, frustration, hatred, and pain.

He leaned over her now, fisting her hair, and pulling her closer.
 
His kiss was unforgiving.
 
His other hand pressed unrelenting against her body.

This Bryce scared her.
 
Only when he pulled away did she realize she had been lying there, not moving, and not kissing him back.

“I’d do anything for you.”
 
He bent over her to kiss her again, his breath coming quicker.
 
“We need it to be just us.
 
No more Brandi.
 
She’s ruining it for us.
 
She always has.”

“I know, I know.”
 
Her voice was almost a whisper.
 
“It’s not that easy though.”
 
She wanted to say what he wanted to hear, but she had to fight with her conscience.
 
“How can I kick her out now after I single-handedly ruined her life?”

Bryce let out a labored breath and rolled on his back, his voice now flat.
 
“She did it to herself, Eryn.
 
You don’t owe her anything.”

“She seems to think I do.”

“Christ, Eryn.
 
She thinks everyone owes her.”
 
He shoved his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I know,” she whispered.
 
She rolled on her side and placed her head on his chest.
 
Her hands skimmed over the flat plane of his stomach.
 
He felt good.
 
Solid and strong.
 
Maybe their definition of love wasn’t the same and maybe they had different ways of showing it, but it was all they had.
  

“I’ll help her get a place to stay,” she said.
 
“Then she’ll be gone.
 
I promise.”

His arms wrapped around Eryn, crushing her closer.
 
“Soon, Eryn,” he said quietly.
 
“Please.”

Chapter 30

“Our presence is required at Rynonshire.” Lord Roberts’ chair scraped the stone floor as he pushed away from the table.
 
“There is a bit of unrest there.
 
Some problem between the villagers and the steward.”

“
Our
presence, milord?” Galen tensed.

“I have been giving this some thought.”
 
Lord Roberts crossed to the window, and stood looking out, hands held behind his back.
 
“It seems as though our good steward is unable to maintain control.
 
There is also rumor he is abusing his station.”

“How does this involve me, milord?”

“I am asking you to come with me, Galen,” Lord Roberts spoke again, not turning around.
 
“You are my most trusted knight.
 
If I must dismiss him, I would have you there in his stead.”

Galen could feel the blood fade from his face, his body suddenly cold.
 
To oversee one of Lord Roberts’ many holdings was an honor any knight would embrace, but residing at Rynonshire would mean leaving Catherine behind.
 
That is, if she did not agree to wed him.
 

Lord Roberts turned abruptly.
 
“Prepare yourself and ten of your men.
 
We leave immediately.”

“Is it necessary to leave so soon, milord?”
 
Galen stopped himself from saying anything more.
 
Never before had he questioned a command given to him.

Lord Roberts raised a brow at Galen’s objection. “Yes, it is.
 
Either the steward has the spine of a grass blade or is deceitful.
 
Either way, I must discover the cause behind the unrest.”

Lord Roberts studied Galen’s face with an unwavering gaze, and Galen returned it, his own eyes yielding very little.

“You worry about Catherine.”

Galen’s fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.
 
What he truly wanted was Lord Roberts’ blessing to run his sword through the merchant.

Controlling himself with a deep breath, Galen spoke the truth.
 
“Milord, I love Catherine very much.”

“The merchant.
 
You’ve not been able to fend him off?”
 
A hint of amusement quivered at the corners of Lord Roberts’ mouth.
 
“You are slipping, Galen.”

“Milord, she is confused as to where her heart truly lies.
”
 
He let out a breath, defeat weighing on his shoulders.
 
“I know she cares for me.
 
I have been patient, milord.
 
I have given her time.
 
I believe she would have agreed to be my wife had this merchant not interfered.”

Lord Roberts slapped Galen on the shoulder.
 
“Whether or not it is necessary for you to oversee Rynonshire, I will ensure that you and Catherine are wed.”
 
He turned and walked back to the table to gather his papers.
 
“It is long past time for her to choose.”

Galen nodded his head in acceptance, but had no feeling of elation in response to Lord Roberts’ declaration.
 
He wanted Catherine to accept him freely, by her own decision.
 
Still, he had no doubt she would be happy with their union eventually.
 
He squared his shoulders and set his chin in determination. 

“Thank you, milord.”  Galen bowed and turned to the door.

≈

The courtyard was now quiet as the servants went back inside the hall to resume their duties.
 
Catherine watched as Lord Roberts, Galen, Sara, Elizabeth, and ten knights rode out.  Their journey would take them to Lord Oakley’s castle for a night, a fact that Catherine did not miss when her father insisted she stay behind.
 
A fortnight they would be gone.
 
A fortnight to be alone to think about her future.

Her father’s words before he left had settled heavily on her heart.

“This matter at Rynonshire will be laid to rest quickly, Catherine.
 
I expect I shall be relieving the steward of his position.”
 
He had looked hesitant and had then said,
 
“
As much as I loathe to lose his services here, Galen will be of great value to me at Rynonshire.”

“
Galen is leaving Elderidge?
”

“Not immediately, but very soon.”

The meaning of her father’s words shook the very foundation of her world.
 
Could she so easily let Galen go?
 
Could she wake up each day knowing she would not see his easy smile?
 

Out of the emptiness that poured into her heart, emerged the realization this perhaps would give her the time she needed.
 
Time to be with Jonathan and time to convince her father of his worthiness.
 

Her elation quickly soured.
 
She had no doubt Galen would ask her to accompany him as his wife to Rynonshire.
 
He had selflessly given her the time she asked for and now he would expect her to accept his proposal.
 
She could hardly believe he would so easily leave her behind.

She could deny him, of course, but there was no guarantee her father would approve of Jonathan.
 
Could she defy her father and follow her heart, turning her back on the life she knew?
 

She looked around the courtyard.  All was quiet.  She headed towards the stables and ordered Jarrid to saddle her horse.
 
There was no doubt in her mind where she would go.
 
She would seek solace by the water’s edge.

As she and her mare neared the water, she saw a few ships lingering in the port, but
La Helena
was already making her way towards the open sea.
 
Catherine wished she could reach out and pull the ship back to her, just to see Jonathan one last time.

She turned her horse to the path leading to the beach.  The sun glared over the surface of the water, hiding the horizon from view.
 
She filled her lungs with the salty air and then let it out slowly.
 
Once on the sand, Catherine’s horse followed the lazy roll of the waves as they came upon the shore.

Shouts of men drew her attention back to the
La Helena
.
 
Shielding her face against the sun, she squinted through the glare.
 
The ship seemed to be hesitating, then her sails suddenly became limp, flapping loosely in the breeze.
 
Catherine strained to make out the small boat that was being lowered into the water and the three men who were sliding down a rope into the boat.

What was amiss?
 
Catherine wondered, watching.
 

Her heart began a slow pounding in her chest.
 
Is it possible one of those men could be Jonathan?
  
Using her heels and slapping the reins, Catherine urged her horse into a gallop.
 
The boat made its way toward the shore, slicing easily through the water with the rhythmic pulling of the oars.