“Brodie?”
Fuck.“A celtic knot.” I gritted the words out.
She didn’t reply right away, perhaps hearing the strain in my voice as I stroked myself. “I’ve heard of those but I don’t know much about them. What’s the significance?”
Sighing, I removed my hand and turned the water cold. I couldn’t jack off without being obvious and I’d rather not have her freak out while I was bare assed in the shower.
“It’s a series of loops without start or finish. It represents loyalty, faith, and love, all of which should be ne’erending.”
The answering silence was prolonged. “Emery?”
“That’s…beautiful,” she said, her voice husky. “Less combative than I was expecting.”
“It’s in memory of my sister and mother. A knot is created with a single thread or line, symbolic of the intertwining of life and eternity.”
“I take it they’re…”
“Yes.” I was finished washing and turned off the water. I didn’t know why I was telling her all of this. It was none of her business. I opened the door and stepped out onto the bathmat, unmindful of my nudity.
She sucked in a breath and swiftly averted her eyes. “Christ on a cracker, Brodie! Put that thing away!” I grinned and grabbed a towel, drying myself with thorough, leisurely strokes. Her cheeks were a pink flame, and I decided I liked the look on her.
“Why?” I asked, stifling a groan. I could myself stiffening again in reaction to her eyes on me and decided to return to our earlier conversation.
“Why?” Her eyes flashed to mine and down before she caught herself. “Because it’s rude to make your prisoner stare at your cock, that’s why.”
“No need to stare, luv; I’ll leave it out as long as you like. But that’s not what I meant. I was referring to your problem with your parents.”
“Arghh!” She gurgled wordlessly. “Turn around and I’ll answer you.”
My grin broadened. This girl. She was leaving herself wide open to my teasing. “If you wanted a peep at my arse all you had to do was ask,” I admonished, turning around and giving her a look at said arse.
“I can assure you; I do not want to look at any part of you nude,” she said stiffly. Apparently deciding not to spar any longer, she moved quickly to our former topic. “And there are many reasons. They want one thing; I want another. My stepfather sees me as a pawn to increase his wealth. My mother cares more about her horses than me.”
“What do you mean by your stepfather seeing you as a pawn?” A frown wrinkled my forehead as I toweled myself dry.
Emery gusted out a breath of air, apparently more over the topic than I was. “He arranged a marriage for me when I was eighteen years old… before I’d even graduated from high school. Pretty much sold me to the highest bidder, a forty-eight year old banker.”
Schooling my expression, I dropped the towel on the floor and walked by her into the bedroom, moving to the bureau to sort out some clothing. A marriage contract, and to a man more than twice her age. It was archaic. It was sickening. “What was his leverage?” In the bathroom, I heard her grumbling something about wet towels and being a slob, but it came to a stop at my question. She leaned against the door jamb of the bathroom.
“My trust fund, of course. One set up by my paternal grandparents and managed by my father until he died. Technically he can’t put his hands on it. But he could refuse me access until I turned thirty, and that’s what he did. Marry and get my inheritance, or wait until I was thirty.”
“So your solution was to join the army?”
The smile she sent my way was bitter. “Yep.”
“And how’d that work out for you?”
She straightened and marched toward the living room. “What, are we sharing our life stories now? Your turn.”
“And here we were getting along so well.”
“Pfft.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and went to stand at the picture window by the dining table, either oblivious to or unconcerned with the wind that blew chill around the gaps in the sashing. Her back was to me, but the tension in her thin frame was unmistakable. Suddenly something crystallized for me.
“It’s something to do with the Army.” She looked over her shoulder in alarm and I knew I had the right of it. “Whoever wants to kill you...it has something to do with your time in the military.”
Emery chewed on her bottom lip for a second, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
