Page 51 of Emma & Edmund

Chapter 14

"Take her."

Emma gasped herself awake in a cold sweat.

"Emma?" A sleep-caught husky whisper came from beside her, the breath of the word tickling her ear.

The memories flooded back to her with a vengeance. The kiss, the argument, the feast of her body, all of it. But even as the blush crept up her cheek, accompanied by the pleasant soreness of her lips and hips, only the faintest hint of shame tagged along.

That couldn't matter now, not when the sickening hiss still rang in her ears.

"Did you hear that? There was a voice."

Edmund, with one massive arm slung over her waist as they squeezed together on the narrow bed, didn't seem to rouse. Instead, he gruffed out a huff and pulled her back into his embrace, holding her close against him. Fighting back the contentment the simple move brought her, Emma wondered how she became so comfortable being as close to someone as she was now, resting her cheek against his solid chest despite herself.

"No one would come here, dearest. Rest a little longer." Fingers wound through her hair, tightening his hold evermore.

"I swear, I heard someone."

"What did they say?"

Try as she might to wrack her brain, the exact words wouldn't come, her memory failing her. When she said as much, Edmund dragged his nails pleasantly across her scalp, responding, "You're just unused to the sounds of the woods. Rest, I'll bring you back soon."

It didn't take long for his breathing to even out under her ear, but Emma found it impossible to rest. Equally unwilling to unravel herself from Edmund's embrace, she stared into the darkness.

There was no fire, leaving her staring into any corner she could, imagining a whispering shadow figure anywhere she looked.

She wasn't afraid of physical harm, it was hard to imagine anything being able to hurt her with Edmund there, but that fact did not negate the fact sheknewshe heard someone speak.

The more she looked, the more still the room felt. No flicker of light through the single curtained window, no creak of old wood or draft, leaving only the low breathing of the one holding her.

In sleep, the hard edges and angles of Edmund's face softened. His relaxed jaw and brow made him look almost youthful; his round lips parted just enough to give way to the puffs of air that washed over her cheeks.

They were almost like husband and wife, laying as they were.

The thought nearly made her shoot out of bed. What in the world was she thinking, putting those words in her mind? Husband and wife? Not on God's Earth would that ever be a fact.

Edmund wasn't a man, so, therefore, there could be no 'man and wife'.

Where would they go? What would they do? Her entire life was in London, usually anyway.

But if that was true, why did she feel as she did, being held by a non-man? Neither the ladylike shame nor blush came. It felt almost destined.

While she would deny it in the morning, in the dark and still of the night, she knew she was a moth to flame, intrinsically drawn to him. Be it for the novelty or simply because he was the soul he was, it felt almost natural when they were together. Easy. Easier than it had ever been with anyone she could confidently call a man.

Her musing was silenced by a piercing laugh that ricocheted through the room, sounding like it had been let out just next to her ear. Screaming, Emma found herself unable to move, franticly trying to rip herself out of Edmund's hard hold.

Until she found herself pinned to the mattress by a heartily awake, wide-eyed Edmund.

"You must have heard that!" She yelled at him, chasing the echo remnants of the laughter.

Instantly, he nodded and in the next moment, had sprung off the bed, already ripping the door off its hinges. Even with trepidation dripping through her, it wasn't hard to be impressed with his speed and precision.

"Stay here." Edmund had thrown the command over his shoulder, but his words were wasted when Emma practically glued herself to his back, taking fistfuls of his shirt.

"You are not leaving me alone!"

His sigh might have been resolute, but the hand that covered hers was warm, and the slight squeeze comforting. "Stick close to me, then. We can't have whatever that was snatching you away."

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