"I'll see if I can find your horse. Stay where you are." Not waiting for a reply, he whirled his own horse around and headed down the trail.
She couldn't move if she wanted to. There might be nothing broken, but every muscle ached from the fall.
She watched as he rode off, his hand was sure on the reins, and the firm angle of his boots in the stirrups denoted a man who accepted nothing less than perfect control. With a snort of disgust, she acknowledged that a man such as St. James would never have allowed himself to be thrown from his horse.
Zach guided the stallion past the next twist in the trail, then turned back. The bay Elyse was riding had cleared the jump and had kept right on going after her fall. Eventually he'd find his way back to his stall. There were two of them and only one horse. A faint smile twitched at the corners of his mouth when he returned to find her standing a little unsteadily beside the fallen tree.
She was just as beautiful as he remembered, but so completely different from the elegant young woman he'd met the night of the ball. Sandy would have no doubts if he saw her now. Soft brown pants were snug over slender thighs, glistening boots encased her calves. Her jacket was unbuttoned, exposing the flowing softness of a white shirt left open at the collar. And the black riding cap was gone. A disheveled mass of glistening sable-colored hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. And her eyes... large and soft, with secret shadows that betrayed a woman's thoughts, they were a haunting blue that seemed to go right through him, almost as if she were seeing inside him. The skin across her high cheekbones was pale, the color only now just beginning to return. Her mouth was full, too full for her to be anything but a woman, and faintly downturned in the beginning of a frown. The illusion of the clothes ceased where the collar ended.
"It is a lovely day for a ride," he teased, knowing full well by the look that sparked in those magnificent eyes that she was in no mood for it.
"Won't you join me, Miss Winslow? It seems your mount is nowhere to be found." He held out a hand, offering to help her astride his own horse.
Elyse hesitated. "What about my pendant?" she persisted, regarding his outstretched hand as if it were a snake.
"You certainly are single-minded." He deliberately avoided a direct answer.
"Do you have it with you?" Provoked by his maddening evasiveness, Elyse felt color rise in her cheeks.
"Actually, there is just one tiny problem." His gaze took in the finely chiseled planes of her face, then slipped down the elegant column of exposed throat to the voluminous man's shirt left open at the collar, plunging to the alluring darkness between the thrust of her breasts. He wondered if she was aware of how beautiful she was at that moment, her hair in wild disarray, twigs clinging to her pants, and a faint scratch across one cheek.
"I see no problem," Elyse's voice quavered. "Simply return the pendant." She tried to disguise her amazement. My God, he was practically undressing her with his eyes, or rather, quite effectively with his one eye.
"I would really like very much to return it to you, but I haven't got it with me."
A look of such boyish innocence came to his face that for a long moment Elyse was caught off guard. But the throbbing pain in her head gave her focus.
"If you don't have it, then what are you doing here!" She stomped a booted foot.
"It seems I'm rescuing a fair maiden."
Her head came up, her gaze locking with his. All the anger and pain seemed to seep out of her.Rescuing a fair maiden.A flash of something from her dreams returned and was quickly gone. Shaking her head, Elyse tried to brush away her confusion.
Zach dismounted. "You should take it easy. And since there is only one horse, we'll have to ride double."
Elyse frowned up at him. "I don't suppose you'd consider lending me your horse since you are responsible for my being without one,” she suggested, as his arm slipped around her waist, and he guided her to the tall stallion.
"That's right, I won't." When she stubbornly tried to pull away, he nimbly placed her one foot in the stirrup and gently boosted her into the saddle.
For a brief instant, Elyse considered leaving him right where he stood but as her gaze locked with his, she realized he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"I wouldn't try it if I were you." He swung up behind her. "You wouldn't want a bruised backside to match your head."
He pulled her back into the curve of his body, then smiled as he felt her stiffen in response.
"You wouldn't dare!" she replied.
"Wouldn't I?" A smile teased at his lips, which were very near her cheek, but in his gaze was a steely promise. "I always get even when someone tries to pull something on me. And I pay back in triplicate."
Elyse swallowed back a stinging remark. He was just arrogant enough to leave her there without a horse. As for the spanking he'd threatened, she didn't really believe he would do it. Still...
"What is this place anyway?" He cast a speculative glance around them as his arms encircled her waist, and the reins were gathered in his maddeningly strong hands.
"It's called Jane's Folly. It was named after Jane Seymour, the third wife of Henry the Eighth."
"Henry the Eighth?"
His warm breath brushed her ear. Far too close.
