Chapter 14
Bree collected the threads and shoved them into the pockets of her cloak. Something about the number of them and the way they skirted the path had her wondering.
After about fifteen minutes, they emerged out of the trees back onto the path.
“There has to be a reason they avoided the track. Got any ideas?”
Horland gazed back on the path and rubbed his chin. His eyes widened and he let out an angry puff of air. “Wait here.”
Bree tried to see whatever was making him so full of ire, but she couldn’t see anything.
Horland withdrew his sword and held it up in both hands. He was going to strike something but when he placed one foot ahead of the other, he didn’t have time to lower his blade. Ropes sprang out of the tree’s foliage on either side of him and wound around his wrists, tying them together.
Bree gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth as Horland twisted and turned and used his body weight to try to pull his hands out of the ropes.
Bree trotted up beside him and grinned. “That’s some trap.”
“Get back. There could be more.”
“I think this one worked really well, they wouldn’t have needed more, but you’re lucky, you have me to get you out of the bind you’re in.”
She laughed and moved to stand in front of him but before she could do anything, a net of ropes enveloped both of them. With Bree falling forward hard against Horland’s chest, they rose into the air.
The trap was obviously only meant for one, because Bree was smashed against Horland and unable to move even the slightest distance away.
She looked up at his face, only a hair’s breadth away from hers, and was struck with the depth of emotion in his eyes. Not anger which she would have expected, but something else. His eyes were stormy gray, and, she was certain, full of desire.
He bent his head and before she knew it, he was kissing her, hard. His passionate need lit her own and she moaned.
He grunted and pulled back but kept his lips close to hers. His dark gray eyes beheld her gently as if asking permission. Without conscious thought, she opened her mouth and taking that as an invitation, he pressed his lips to hers and deepened the kiss.
Bree’s body tingled and shivered; his salty taste and the warm breath from his nose against her cheek had her melting into his body.
She didn’t care or even think about the fact they were trapped like sardines in a net hanging high above the ground; all she cared about was the many sensations flying through her body, sensations she had never felt before.
Oh, she got a taste of the feelings when he kissed her the first time and even more so in her dream, but this was so much more.
All thought fled her mind, and she pushed her chest against his, wanting to get closer, wanting to feel the quick rise and falls of his breathing, the rapid tempo of his heart against hers.
A moan sounded and Bree was only slightly aware it came from her throat. He answered with a low throaty groan. The passion in that sound made her heart flip and she broke off the kiss. Seeing his passion-filled, glassy eyes, she dropped her gaze and tried to gain control of her panting breaths.
He chuckled and she snapped her gaze back to him.
“You are quite safe. I cannot move. If you would like to continue our kiss, you have to come closer.”
Bree tipped her head back and looked from his tied wrists to his half-bent elbows, to the sword still clasped in his fists.
She laughed. The situation was ridiculous.
He couldn’t move and her arms were caught by her sides.
She took in his face, his neck where a vein still throbbed hard, and his expansive chest.
Heat filled her face as she thought how she didn’t need him to have use of his hands. They could still have gone further than a kiss.
She wrestled her arms up and pressing her hands against his chest, pushed away from him.
Where were these thoughts coming from? For Pete’s sake, they were hoisted up in the air and squashed together like a jelly and ice-cream sandwich.
She gave a slight shake of her head. They had to get out of the trap and find the girl.
The poor thing must be scared out of her mind and here was Bree, making out with a knight in a net.
“No?” Horland raised a brow in question. He smiled. “Can you reach my hands then?”
If Bree were to try, she would have to take her hands from his chest. She screwed up her nose and again heat filled her cheeks at the thought of what would happen when she did remove her hands.
She stiffened, reining in her base urges.
I can do this. She lifted her arms and immediately crashed into his body.
Taking in a quick breath, she focused on her hands and ignored any sensations reeling around the rest of her.
“How on Earth did the rope get around your wrists?”
“I have no idea. Mayhap it was magic.”
“I doubt it. Who do you think set the trap?”
When he didn’t answer, Bree chanced a glance at his handsome face. He was looking over her head, but as his eyes appeared unfocused, she guessed he wasn’t seeing anything—he was thinking.
“You think it was Garlain, don’t you?”
“We are close to the ruins and Garlain is there. Only he would have reason to obstruct any who may venture close to his location.”
“I don’t know what my father is like today, but I remember his smile, the love that shone in his eyes, the feelings of safety he gave me. There’s no way he would purposefully hurt anyone, let alone leave them stranded in traps to die of hunger and thirst.”
Horland’s eyes stormed gray, but this time it wasn’t desire swirling in their depths—it was anger.
“You lie. Garlain is not your father.”
No point in arguing with him. “Whatever, but I know he wouldn’t hurt you or me.”
She returned her focus on her hands. “Try to loosen your fingers.” Bree, thankful Horland wasn’t much taller than she was, stretched her arms above them.
Their bodies smacked together, but she ignored her somersaulting stomach and lengthened her back.
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, held it, and worked her fingers to wriggle the sword out of his grasp.
Her right hand clasped the grip and she yelped in delight.
Looking up, she wrapped her other hand around the grip also.
Her first thought was, what was she going to do now?
She couldn’t lower the sword, or she’d probably cut Horland’s nose off.
She looked at him and grinned. With the way he was looking down his nose at her, maybe she should whip it off.
“Let your arms fall slightly, just enough to bring the blade into contact with the ropes.”
Bree did and stuck her elbows in his chest to keep the heavy weapon from waving about.
Tipping her head back further so she could see what she was doing, she used every muscle to keep the blade upright and sawed at the ropes.
Her elbows screwed into Horland’s flesh with every movement, and she knew it must have hurt him, but he didn’t complain.
The first rope cut through and the sword teetered forward, its weight pulling her head to hit Horland’s nose. Bree’s arms ached but she got the sword under control once more and shot him a wry look. “Sorry.”
His gaze held hers for a moment and it seemed to Bree that all time stood still.
He grunted. “Keep going.”
Bree inhaled and narrowed her eyes at him. “I was going to.”
An ache developed in her neck as she plied at the ropes.
Every second the sword doubled in weight, and nearly out of strength, she used every tortured muscle to hack at the last rope.
It finally flew apart. She gasped and collapsed against Horland, the sword falling forward to rest on the branch that held them aloft.
Her arms bent awkwardly but she took comfort in resting her head on his shoulder.
One of Horland’s arms wound around Bree and she wished she had the strength to remove her own arms from between them.
“You did well,” Horland whispered into her hair.
She looked up at him, but pain in her neck had her returning her head to his shoulder. The smell of sweet, salty sweat filled her soul, and she was happy to stay that way forever.
But it wasn’t to be. Horland removed his arm and his muscles bunched and twisted under her. Without looking, she knew he was cutting the net behind her back. She opened her eyes and looked down. The ground was a long way away.
But before she could get herself ready for the fall, the net gave way and she fell backward. Bree let out a shriek; a split-second thought that she would hit the ground first and he would land on her and kill her had her grappling to hold on to him.
She needn’t have worried. Horland had somehow managed in that short distance to twist his body so she landed on top of him. Hard. Air wrenched out of her lungs while Horland’s breath puffed out of him and she went still.
Horland shook Bree. “Are you well?”
Bree fought to inhale but it hurt too much. “I... can’t... breathe.”
He lifted her off him and sitting up, sat her in front of him. “Breathe.”
She did and immediately began choking.
“Breathe,” Horland insisted.
She tried again and while the breath hurt, it found its way into her lungs. She drew in a deep breath and another and another until finally she was breathing without difficulty or pain.
She grinned. “Well that was interesting.”
Horland appeared to have had his mind elsewhere but when his eyes focused on her, he smiled. “Exceedingly interesting.”
She wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing, but she was delighted they were out of the trap and able to continue.
She had to find out if her father was responsible for the trap.
Something told her no, but as Horland said, he was the only person who would have reason to keep people away.
But Bree knew he’d only do so out of grief, not for the unsavory reasons Horland thought.
Horland stood up and held his hand out to her. “Are you well enough to walk?”