Page 70 of The Great Pursuit
Aerity had done well today, but she was too young to be forced into ruling. Wyneth couldn’t help but think it was only a matter of time before things went awry. Those whohad taken her aunt and uncle would surely be back. How would they protect themselves? And was her family safe on the Isle of Evie? She hoped to receive word from them on the morrow.
Furball pressed his nose hard against Wyneth’s hip and snorted where he knew dried sardines hid within her deep skirt pockets. She clicked and pointed to the spot before her. Furball jumped to that spot and turned. She raised a hand and he went up on his hind legs. Wyneth tossed him a sardine, which he crunched happily and licked his lips.
She then tested his skill to stay. She started small, ten feet apart, then twenty, then around a corner of bushes. Each time he seemed a little edgy as she left him, as if he wanted nothing more than to follow. But he remained where she left him, telling him tostay, until she clicked her tongue and called for him. After an hour and a half, as the skies darkened, he had managed to stay at the far corner of the maze of bushes until she called. But much to her surprise he didn’t wind through the maze to get to her.
In his lack of patience, he made a straight line to herthroughthe bushes.
Wyneth stared at the trampled plants with a hand over her mouth. Oh, Queen Leighlane would be furious. She was still staring, wondering if the bushes were salvageable, when Furball gave a small growl and stared behind her toward the castle. Wyneth spun and saw Harrison sitting on the steps. The guard was gone. Harrison clapped his hands.
“Remarkable, Wyn.”
Her heart rose and danced as it always did when he complimented her. “Thank you.”
“But he growled at me,” Harrison said, standing. “He’s never done that before.”
The creature seemed unfazed now, happily tuckered out as he lay at her side. Perhaps he’d just been startled, or maybe it was the darkness. But she couldn’t have Furball growling at her friends when they came near. He needed to recognize the difference between friendly interactions and danger.
“Come to me, Harrison,” Wyneth said.
He looked upon her, and in that moment there was a heavy sort of strangeness between them that made her blush, as if she’d asked him to do something inappropriate.
“To see how he’ll react,” she amended.
“All right,” he said softly. And he did as she asked, walking forward.
Furball watched him carefully. As Harrison got closer, the creature went from lying to sitting, definitely more attentive. When they were a few feet away, and Harrison paused, Wyneth whispered, “Closer.”
He took a step forward, and then another, until there was only a foot between them. Wyneth peeked down at Furball, who craned his neck up at the pair but did not seem upset.
“He seems okay with you now.” Wyneth spoke softly.
“Aye,” Harrison whispered. “Good.” But he didn’t move.
Wyneth swallowed. She didn’t want him to move awayyet. “Perhaps you should touch me . . . just to be sure?”
She stared into his eyes and shivered all over when she felt the warmth of his hands surrounding hers, twining their fingers together. Furball snorted. Harrison released her fingers and ran his hands up her cloaked arms to her shoulders. His eyes had her mesmerized, the way he gazed at her unflinchingly as if searching. Wyneth didn’t understand what was coming over them.
This is Harrison, for seas’ sake. Breckon’s cousin.He was as familiar and comfortable as a hearth flame or a hot bath. And right now all she wanted was to be submerged in the warm feeling he gave off. Her breaths hitched as his hands moved up and pulled back her hood.
His palms ran up her neck, the heat of his skin a stark contrast to the cold air engulfing them. When he took her cheeks she quaked at her core.
“Harrison?” she breathed. She hadn’t meant his name to come out as a question, but her entire world was off its axis at that moment.
“Aye, Wyn,” he whispered.
And then his lips touched hers. They didn’t move. His breath warmed her face, and his lips began to explore hers with absolute gentleness, as if he were savoring each curve and crevice. Wyneth grasped his wrists, afraid her legs would stop working the way her mind had. She clung to him.
He pulled back and pressed his cheek to hers, his warm breath at her ear. “Forgive me, but I’ve wanted to do that forfar longer than is proper.”
“I . . . what?” Her mind broke.
He looked at her with something akin to sadness. “I shouldn’t be saying this.” He stopped and swallowed. “Let’s get you inside. It’s cold.”
He dropped his hands from her face and began to turn.
“No!” Wyneth grabbed his hand and pulled him back to face her. “What shouldn’t you be saying?” Her heart was racing. She’d never seen his eyes like this before. So solemn and intense, as if he were afraid. And the things he was saying—each word was a thrilling zap that reached to her core. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want to lose your friendship,” he said. “It means more to me than anything. And some words, once spoken, cannot be taken back. Some words have the power to ruin friendships and . . . change things.”
