that he would never be forced into marriage with a woman he didn’t love. He wanted a happy life, a happy and devoted wife, someone to cherish him and their children. He would make it clear to Jayce he would not feel guilty about his position anymore.
And he would make it very clear that she should not look at him with those deep, innocent blue eyes any longer.
After a quick, fruitless search of the great hall, he headed toward the master bedroom. Jayce must have returned there after the joust. He threw open the door and entered. “I would speak with you---” His voice died like a wavering candle extinguished by a whiplash breeze. The torchlight from the wall flickered over the undisturbed bed. The room was empty.
The shutters framing the window banged in the breeze, drawing his attention. He moved to the window to gaze out on his lands. Darkness had claimed his domain. An uneasiness snaked its way through his body. She was out there. In unfamiliar lands. Unprotected.
Reese dashed from the room and raced out into the courtyard, his usual calm gait turning to a run as he sped toward the stables. He reached the building just as the stable master was locking the animals up for the night. With a curt command from Reese, the old man quickly reopened the doors. Reese brushed by him without a word and dashed into the stables. He guided his horse from its stall and pulled himself up onto his back, wasting no time in trying to saddle the animal. He had often ridden bareback when he was a child, enjoying the freedom it gave him.
But there was no enjoyment now, only a slowly building panic.
His stomach twisted as he imagined Jayce lying on the road somewhere, hurt and bleeding.
He quickly pushed the thought aside, telling himself this was his village, and no one would dare to harm her. Still, Morse’s hurtful words rose in his mind, and he knew it was not only physical things that could wound her. Guilt rose in Reese’s heart, and he knew if anyone had hurt her, it had been him.
He spurred the horse on. As he raced toward the village, riding past the enclosure that housed Satan, Reese wondered where to start his search. But then the eerie silence caught his attention. Satan’s incessant snorts and whinnies of disapproval were nowhere to be heard.
Reese reined in his horse, his gaze scanning the moon-kissed pasture. Where is that infernal beast? he wondered.
Then, he saw an apparition bathed in the glow of the moon, a ghostly vision floating above the fence surrounding the grazing land. The night’s breeze ruffled her dress and danced through the silken strands of her hair.
Reese squinted and blinked. The spirit abruptly vanished, and in its place he saw Jayce standing precariously on the fence. She held something in her hand that flapped in the breeze. It took a moment for Reese to realize it was a blanket. Then, he heard her calling to the beast.
Reese spurred his steed toward her as she sat on the top plank of the fence, beginning to ease herself over the side of the wooden barricade. Outrage and disbelief flashed through Reese. She was going into Satan’s pen. Didn’t she know how dangerous and unpredictable the warhorse was?
Before she could climb fully into the pen, Reese reached around her tiny waist and hauled her from the fence onto his own steed. “Are you out of your mind?” he demanded. His reprimand died in his throat as she turned those brilliant eyes on him. Those dangerous eyes.
Eyes that captured the pale light of the moon and radiated its energy back tenfold. Eyes that were capable of capturing much more than just the moon’s glow.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Her bottom pressing against his thighs caught him off guard, and for a brief moment he imagined what she would look like lying beneath him in the throes of ecstasy.
He silently shook himself and frowned, trying to regain control of the situation. “I might ask the same of you.”
“Where am I supposed to be?” she
And he would make it very clear that she should not look at him with those deep, innocent blue eyes any longer.
After a quick, fruitless search of the great hall, he headed toward the master bedroom. Jayce must have returned there after the joust. He threw open the door and entered. “I would speak with you---” His voice died like a wavering candle extinguished by a whiplash breeze. The torchlight from the wall flickered over the undisturbed bed. The room was empty.
The shutters framing the window banged in the breeze, drawing his attention. He moved to the window to gaze out on his lands. Darkness had claimed his domain. An uneasiness snaked its way through his body. She was out there. In unfamiliar lands. Unprotected.
Reese dashed from the room and raced out into the courtyard, his usual calm gait turning to a run as he sped toward the stables. He reached the building just as the stable master was locking the animals up for the night. With a curt command from Reese, the old man quickly reopened the doors. Reese brushed by him without a word and dashed into the stables. He guided his horse from its stall and pulled himself up onto his back, wasting no time in trying to saddle the animal. He had often ridden bareback when he was a child, enjoying the freedom it gave him.
But there was no enjoyment now, only a slowly building panic.
His stomach twisted as he imagined Jayce lying on the road somewhere, hurt and bleeding.
He quickly pushed the thought aside, telling himself this was his village, and no one would dare to harm her. Still, Morse’s hurtful words rose in his mind, and he knew it was not only physical things that could wound her. Guilt rose in Reese’s heart, and he knew if anyone had hurt her, it had been him.
He spurred the horse on. As he raced toward the village, riding past the enclosure that housed Satan, Reese wondered where to start his search. But then the eerie silence caught his attention. Satan’s incessant snorts and whinnies of disapproval were nowhere to be heard.
Reese reined in his horse, his gaze scanning the moon-kissed pasture. Where is that infernal beast? he wondered.
Then, he saw an apparition bathed in the glow of the moon, a ghostly vision floating above the fence surrounding the grazing land. The night’s breeze ruffled her dress and danced through the silken strands of her hair.
Reese squinted and blinked. The spirit abruptly vanished, and in its place he saw Jayce standing precariously on the fence. She held something in her hand that flapped in the breeze. It took a moment for Reese to realize it was a blanket. Then, he heard her calling to the beast.
Reese spurred his steed toward her as she sat on the top plank of the fence, beginning to ease herself over the side of the wooden barricade. Outrage and disbelief flashed through Reese. She was going into Satan’s pen. Didn’t she know how dangerous and unpredictable the warhorse was?
Before she could climb fully into the pen, Reese reached around her tiny waist and hauled her from the fence onto his own steed. “Are you out of your mind?” he demanded. His reprimand died in his throat as she turned those brilliant eyes on him. Those dangerous eyes.
Eyes that captured the pale light of the moon and radiated its energy back tenfold. Eyes that were capable of capturing much more than just the moon’s glow.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Her bottom pressing against his thighs caught him off guard, and for a brief moment he imagined what she would look like lying beneath him in the throes of ecstasy.
He silently shook himself and frowned, trying to regain control of the situation. “I might ask the same of you.”
“Where am I supposed to be?” she
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