Want…
Desire.
“Radish will come through all right.”
Oh, the certainty within his voice.
How she wanted to believe it.
Nay.
How shedidbelieve it.
Why?
It was his eyes—the empathy within.
She swallowed against sudden emotion.
When she’d told him about the death of Dido, he’d been paying attention.
She remembered that of the Bran she’d once known. He listened—to the words spoken and to those left unspoken. It was an incredibly attractive quality in a man.
She remembered that, too.
“I must go,” she said, and immediately set about accomplishing exactly that. She grabbed a handful of mane and used her momentum to launch herself up onto the horse’s back, sitting forward so her knees rested against her mount’s sides.
From his place on the ground, Bran watched her every movement with a cock of his head, his gaze gone opaque. Except she might’ve caught a flash of telling emotion in his eyes before he’d hidden himself away behind them.
Envy.
It confirmed something inside her.
I no longer ride.
More lay behind those four words, and everything presently in his life—where he lived … his occupation … his dawn swimming—came together as part of thatmore.
“Good day,” she said, and turned her mount and started riding, her entire self hot to the tips of her ears.
No farewell sounded at her back.
She rode faster than was strictly necessary. Nothing pressing waited for her at the Grange. But this haste wasn’t born of external necessity, but rather internal.
What had she accomplished by coming here and confirming his morning routine?
Nothing.
She cast her mind over the last ten minutes and found yet another reason adding fuel to her inner turmoil.
When she’d reached out to help him to his feet, he hadn’t accepted.
He’d withheld his touch from her.
It should feel like a blessing.
But it was a humiliation.
Oh, her cheeks might never stop burning.
