Tarnished Knight - By Bec McMaster Page 0,14
man desired a girl. And when he didn’t quite know how to deal with it.
“Come help me in the kitchen,” she said.
Rip watched them go, his arms folded across his chest and his gaze locking on her with an intensity that unnerved her. He shifted as if about to follow them, then thought better of it.
Good.
Her cheeks burning, Esme ducked past Blade – ignoring the inquisitive look he gave her – and pushed through into the kitchen.
A wall of heat hit her. Comforting, homely… her own special retreat. She’d spent the last hour popping corn whilst the men dragged the tree inside and fluffy mounds of it filled a bowl on the bench to be strung up for decorations for the tree. Little mince pies still warm from the oven flavoured the room with their spicy scent and Will’s amber eyes locked on them.
“Here,” Esme murmured.
The tenseness leeched out of him as he sat and began devouring mince pies. Esme reached out with a smile and brushed the hair out his eyes. She’d never had a brother, but Will was as close as one could be.
“You shouldn’t let her get to you,” she murmured.
He stiffened instantly.
“And before you tell me a lie, please bear in mind that I’m the only one who has noticed.”
“Ain’t nothin,” he said, dusting the crumbs of pastry from his fingers. “Lena’s just a girl, playin’ games she can’t afford to. I don’t intend to do anythin’ about it, though I should, just to teach her a lesson.”
“You might be the one who gets your fingers burned,” she replied. “Honoria’s protective of her sister and therefore so is Blade.”
Frustration flared in his eyes. A verwulfen’s temper was always volatile and Esme prayed that Lena would learn that before Will did something he didn’t want to do. He’d always been so fiercely controlled, knowing the devastation he could cause if he lost himself to the berserker fury. A verwulfen wasn’t like a blue blood, hungering for blood, but the rage was almost as dangerous as a blue blood’s hunger.
“I try to stay clear o’ her,” he murmured, hints of Scotland in his words. “It’s hard when she lives here too. Been thinkin’… maybe its time I found a place o’ me own, aye?”
“Perhaps you should find a woman.”
At that he shook his head abruptly. “No. That ain’t for me.”
“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asked softly, knowing the answer. Though Blade had only spoken of it once, she knew there’d been that moment between them, when Will turned eighteen and first became Blade’s thrall. She could only imagine how confusing it must have been for Will, for the feeding affected him at least as much as it did her.
Somehow Blade had sorted the misunderstanding but Will was still wary enough of most women that he rarely tolerated them. The only one he’d ever shown any hint of attraction to was in the next room and blithely unaware of the confusion she was wreaking.
“Christ, Esme.” Will’s eyes flared wild. “I ain’t talkin’ about this with you.”
“You should speak to someone,” she chided. “Perhaps Blade?”
“He’d strip the skin off me back if he knew what I were thinkin’,” Will admitted gruffly.
“John?” she suggested.
A quirk of one tawny brow. “’Cause he obviously knows what he’s doin’.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Will reached out and slid his hand over hers on the bench. “Don’t like to see you hurtin’.”
That hot rush of pain swam through her. Esme summoned a brave smile. “I’m fine, Will. I just don’t believe I can be a friend to John at the moment. Not… Not just yet.”
Movement flickered at the corner of her vision. The door swinging shut. Esme’s head jerked up and she stared as Rip’s eyes met hers. Heat flushed into her cheeks as his gaze slid over her hand, so secure under Will’s. He had to have heard her. For a moment her mind raced, trying to remember if anything else had been said.
Rip’s gaze dropped. “Blade wants your ‘elp with the tree,” he said to Will. “Lena wants to put an angel on the top.”
Will stood with fluid grace, sighing under his breath. “She would.”
As he left the room, Esme toyed with her apron strings. “I didn’t mean--”
“I ‘eard you,” he replied softly. “Per’aps… Per’aps it’s for the best.”
With a bleak nod in her direction, he turned on his heel and disappeared.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rip prowled the night, his body on edge almost as much as his nerves. Running a hand over