Page 25 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
Ram moved forward with Amber into the next group of four who would compete. Why would she consider rewards…unless she debated whether to return to Paris? Was she not telling him everything?
He had to know what drove her allegiance to her cause. Whatever it was, it had to be more than an ethereal devotion to a democracy that seemed as celestial as it was unrealistic here in France.
He took her arm. “Tell me one big reward.”
She pressed her lips together, frowning at him. “I would get to foil someone who thinks he is superior, capable of anything, everything.”
“Who?”
She glared at him with hell in her eyes. “A rapist.”
The way she said it gave him to understand it was she who had been the rapist’s victim. “Amber—” he began.
“Do not.” She put up a hand. “I will win this. Then we will go to the river and talk.”
*
The crowd encouragedthe new set of four. Amber took her place at the end of the group, then on cue she assumed her stance and nocked her first arrow.
Anger clouded her vision. Of course she debated returning to Paris. How Ram perceived that of her had her questioning her ability to mask all her thoughts. He should not be able to understand her so well. But then, they were alike, he and she. Deceivers, actors. Yet honest with each other.
The moderator called the shot.
She let fly her arrow.
The center! All points to her!
She grinned and cast a glance down the targets. No other arrows had landed as perfectly.
She primed the next arrow.
The shot was called.
She pulled, aimed, let loose.
The mark—again—was hers!
Ram stood to one side, his gaze boring into her. She tried to close him out. How dare he worm his way into her consciousness!
The call.
The shot.
Hers, off bull’s-eye this time.
Miffed, she turned over her bow, quiver, and gloves. To hell with the beer.
She marched toward the rushing river.
Ram strode beside her.
She felt exposed to him. Safe from others because of him, but suddenly insecure near Ram.
Very.
Yet she needed to be satisfied with him. It was a paradox. She knew not how to live without a proper answer…and she knew not how to serve herself. How to approach him. How to go on.
Big, bold, gentlemanly Ram, who stood as a bulwark against the world, was an enigma. Most men she’d encountered since the age of fifteen were assertive, even aggressive, in putting themselves in her path. They’d announced in no uncertain terms their interest. It was sexual.
