Read Online Entwined by Kristen Callihan - Free Book Online

if you insist upon having a sturdy leather chair brought in.”
    “Leather, eh? Duly noted, husband.”
    Eamon ducked his head at that, a flush working across his cheeks as he bit down on a grin he could not hide. The action, combined with his big, strong frame and chiseled features, made him utterly appealing to her just then. And she had the mad urge to lean forward, kiss his cheek, perhaps crawl into his lap and nuzzle his throat so that he might blush some more.
    “Well then, wife ”—he grinned again—“once you’ve settled the issue of proper chairs, what shall you like to accomplish here at Evernight Hall?” He leaned in, tilting his head as he considered her. “Shall you improve our sadly lacking stables? Restock our aging library? What will make you happy, Bit?”
    For a moment, she could only stare at him. No one had ever asked after her wants and desires. Deny joy, do as you are told, survive. Those had been her truths. But no longer.
    She took a deep, easy breath. It felt so good that she did it again. Breathe. Let the past go.
    “The stables,” she said. “I’ll see to them first.”
    “And where shall you escape to when you ride?”
    Eamon’s eyes were bright and happy, but his words made her heart skip a beat. She’d written to Aidan that riding was her means of escape. Had he told Eamon? Let him read her letters? Lu couldn’t bear that; it was too humiliating now.
    Eamon noticed her disquiet for his expression sobered. “You must be tired. I shouldn’t be keeping you.” He moved to go.
    “No.” Lu reached out and clutched his forearm. It was like stone beneath her fingers. “I want you here.”
    When he reluctantly sat back, she let him go and forced a light smile. She was being suspicious and overthinking things. Eamon was a shy man and clearly trying to forge a path toward an amicable partnership.
    “I am not sure where to ride,” she said. “Perhaps you can show me?”
    His high-bridged nose wrinkled at the base. “I’m afraid I am not much of a rider.” He looked down at himself with dispassionate appraisal. “Horses tend to find me a mite too big for their comfort.”
    She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “Yes, well, we simply have to find you a horse of the proper size.”
    “Didn’t think they came that large,” he muttered.
    She laughed at that. “And when I escape my cares on the back of a horse, shall you be in your smithy, creating something lovely?”
    He stared at her for a moment, as if shocked.
    “I lost all the animals you made for me,” she blurted out in the silence. “During the coaching accident.”
    Eamon blinked, his skin going pale. “You…” He cleared his throat. “You brought those trinkets with you here?”
    “Trinkets?” She scowled at him in mock outrage. “Do not dare call them that. They were works of art.” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes as she confessed, “They were among my most treasured possessions.” Her letters being the most. Those she had carried on her person, the heavy weight of them in her pocket a comfort during her travels.
    Lu took a fortifying breath. “I hope Aidan conveyed to you how very much I appreciated you making them for me.”
    The fire snapped and hissed.
    “He did.” Eamon’s voice was rough, and she glanced up to find him watching her with something that appeared to be yearning. But then he frowned. “I did not know they meant so much to you. I’m sorry that you lost them.”
    “Not all was lost.” Lu slipped a hand beneath the collar of her dressing gown and pulled free her pendant.
    As if drawn, Eamon leaned forward, and so did she. They met in the middle. His long, blunt-tipped finger cradled the tiny steel lilac as he inspected it. While he did, she inspected him, wondering how a man with such large hands could have forged something so small and delicate.
    “I never take it off.” She felt the need to whisper and hold her body still, as if he might take flight and