enjoying the beauty of God’s earth could be considered sinful. For her, it was another aspect of her newfound freedom.
Freedom. The word tasted sweet on Emily’s tongue. Never had she realized just how much her life had lacked. She’d been a prisoner to her father’s demanding beliefs, a slave to society’s rules, and even held hostage by her own body—afraid to do anything for fear of attracting attention and the ire of Timothy Ambrose.
But out here, none of those things mattered. It was just her and the simple world around her.
No pretense.
No falsehoods.
Just the two of them and all this. It was a world she never wanted to leave. A long shadow fell across her. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at the warrior watching her. Like everything else around her, he too was golden—from the breadth of his shoulders down to his tapered waist and strong legs. Even the taupe skin below his breechclout and his dark eyes reflected the different earth tones surrounding them.
“You’re back,” she greeted him happily, jumping to her feet. Seeing the dead rabbit he held by the hind legs, she held out her hand.
Drawing the animal away from her, the warrior sent a silent question with his eyes. Emily grinned, knowing what answer he sought. Over the past week, she’d experienced her second monthly flow, which meant she wasn’t allowed to touch anything he touched, including the food they ate.
She recalled her embarrassment when her bleeding had started. Out here there’d been no way to hide it, and he’d quickly made a sign that she was to be secluded while in that condition.
Truth to tell, it had been just fine with her. She’d quickly adjusted to being taken care of. In fact, it had felt good to learn that for that one week, as had happened, nothing was expected of her. No chores. No traveling. Just time to sit and reflect. Going to him, she put her hands on his shoulders.
“It’s all right. I’m done.”
He smiled back, reached up and took a strand of her hair, rubbing its softness between his fingers. Emily knew he loved her hair, and of all things, he had probably missed combing, touching and rubbing it during her time in seclusion.
She reached over to take the rabbit from him. He shook his head, dropped the animal and swept her up into his arms. Laughing, she circled her arms around his neck and rested her head in the strong curve of his shoulder, relishing the male scent of him, the warmth of his bronzed skin against her cheek and the strength and security she felt in his arms.
She herself had missed this: his touches, the way he made her feel special, wanted and loved.
The first time he’d kissed her, she’d been scared that he had been about to rape her. But he hadn’t forced her. He’d been gentle and patient. And at last, she’d given herself to him freely. At first it was because she felt she owed it to him; repaying his kindness in saving her life with her body had seemed a small price to pay. But now she loved him, heart and soul.
Wanton. Sinner. Whore.
Her father’s words echoed in her mind.
Daughter of the devil. Satan’s spawn.
The words still hurt. She hadn’t been any of those things, but now? She didn’t know.
Yet she didn’t care. Forcibly, she put thoughts of her father from her mind. This was far too beautiful an afternoon to spoil it with memories of a miserable childhood, and she preferred to just forget about that last day with her parents and pretend it had never happened. It was easier and less painful. But deep down, Emily knew she’d never forget, just as she knew that day had changed her forever.
She stared up at her golden warrior and felt the glow of warmth and happiness. He took her back to the spot where she’d sat waiting for him and gently laid her down on the still-flattened patch of grass.
While he discarded his breechclout, Emily pulled her shift over her head, baring herself to him. It warmed her to see his eyes feasting on her flesh. Lying back,
Freedom. The word tasted sweet on Emily’s tongue. Never had she realized just how much her life had lacked. She’d been a prisoner to her father’s demanding beliefs, a slave to society’s rules, and even held hostage by her own body—afraid to do anything for fear of attracting attention and the ire of Timothy Ambrose.
But out here, none of those things mattered. It was just her and the simple world around her.
No pretense.
No falsehoods.
Just the two of them and all this. It was a world she never wanted to leave. A long shadow fell across her. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at the warrior watching her. Like everything else around her, he too was golden—from the breadth of his shoulders down to his tapered waist and strong legs. Even the taupe skin below his breechclout and his dark eyes reflected the different earth tones surrounding them.
“You’re back,” she greeted him happily, jumping to her feet. Seeing the dead rabbit he held by the hind legs, she held out her hand.
Drawing the animal away from her, the warrior sent a silent question with his eyes. Emily grinned, knowing what answer he sought. Over the past week, she’d experienced her second monthly flow, which meant she wasn’t allowed to touch anything he touched, including the food they ate.
She recalled her embarrassment when her bleeding had started. Out here there’d been no way to hide it, and he’d quickly made a sign that she was to be secluded while in that condition.
Truth to tell, it had been just fine with her. She’d quickly adjusted to being taken care of. In fact, it had felt good to learn that for that one week, as had happened, nothing was expected of her. No chores. No traveling. Just time to sit and reflect. Going to him, she put her hands on his shoulders.
“It’s all right. I’m done.”
He smiled back, reached up and took a strand of her hair, rubbing its softness between his fingers. Emily knew he loved her hair, and of all things, he had probably missed combing, touching and rubbing it during her time in seclusion.
She reached over to take the rabbit from him. He shook his head, dropped the animal and swept her up into his arms. Laughing, she circled her arms around his neck and rested her head in the strong curve of his shoulder, relishing the male scent of him, the warmth of his bronzed skin against her cheek and the strength and security she felt in his arms.
She herself had missed this: his touches, the way he made her feel special, wanted and loved.
The first time he’d kissed her, she’d been scared that he had been about to rape her. But he hadn’t forced her. He’d been gentle and patient. And at last, she’d given herself to him freely. At first it was because she felt she owed it to him; repaying his kindness in saving her life with her body had seemed a small price to pay. But now she loved him, heart and soul.
Wanton. Sinner. Whore.
Her father’s words echoed in her mind.
Daughter of the devil. Satan’s spawn.
The words still hurt. She hadn’t been any of those things, but now? She didn’t know.
Yet she didn’t care. Forcibly, she put thoughts of her father from her mind. This was far too beautiful an afternoon to spoil it with memories of a miserable childhood, and she preferred to just forget about that last day with her parents and pretend it had never happened. It was easier and less painful. But deep down, Emily knew she’d never forget, just as she knew that day had changed her forever.
She stared up at her golden warrior and felt the glow of warmth and happiness. He took her back to the spot where she’d sat waiting for him and gently laid her down on the still-flattened patch of grass.
While he discarded his breechclout, Emily pulled her shift over her head, baring herself to him. It warmed her to see his eyes feasting on her flesh. Lying back,
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