Not that, she supposed, he would play fair. Not when he knew what was on the line.
Finally, her gaze was drawn by what looked to be a snapped branch that had broken loose from one of the birch trees to her right. It wasn’t much, but it was something, the lead she needed to track him down.
Pushing aside the heavy branches, she ducked to make her way into the darkness, her heartbeat picking up the pace in her chest as she went to try and track him down.
He had moved, it seemed to her, like a specter through these woods. There was so little to go on, she at first did not know where to start. And it did not help that her mind had been drawn back to the way that he had looked at her when he had laid out his side of this wager; how certain he seemed that he would get what he wanted from her.
And how, perhaps, there was a part of her that hoped he would.
As she made her way further into the woods, small signs started to announce themselves to her. A flower crushed underfoot, grass that had been flattened in several concurrent spots like someone had just rushed over it.
Her gaze flicked to the trees, making sure that he had not climbed one, that he was not waiting to leap down on her right then and there before she had a chance to fight for herself.
She made her way through the darkened trees, head low as she looked to the ground for a sign of where he had gone. But he left little behind, little that she could go on, at least. Every now and then, she thought she caught sight of a snatch of his shirt out of the corner of her eye, the smell of him in the air as though she had only just missed him.
But when she turned, it was nothing. Her eyes searched for crushed grass, fallen leaves, disturbed branches, anything. Her ears strained for the barest hint of sound?—
And, all at once, she caught something. Something behind her. Her ears were pricked enough that she could make out movement in the trees beyond.
Whipping around triumphantly, she expected to meet his gaze, to see that look of frustration on his face when he realized that she had found him.
But, instead, she was met with nothing but the gaping blackness between the trees. She squinted into it, determined to make out some kind of shape, something that would let her know that this had not been entirely wasted.
But before she could look too hard, the sound came from behind her once more, and she knew she had been caught.
Arms closed around her, a shadow emerging from the darkness before she could muster a word of protest, and she spun around on the spot to find that he had already managed to catch up with her.
He pushed her back into a tree, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the chase. Her body was pinned in place, her heart thudding in her chest.
She could have ducked beneath his arm and darted out into the forest if she truly wanted to prove her skills, but there was something about the way he looked at her that made it impossible to so much as think about pulling herself loose.
“I got ye, lass,” he murmured, a grin curling up his lips.
His hand moved to her waist, and her belly warmed with the memory of the way he had touched her on their wedding night. Even now, she craved it, the warmth of his hands on her, the feeling of his fingers moving with such practiced passion between her legs.
“Why now?” she shot back, trying her best to keep her mind distracted from the overheated want in her body.
He moved closer, his nose just an inch or two from hers, his lips so close that she could almost taste the sweetness of his breath.
“What do ye mean?”
“Why all this attention now?” she demanded.
Her head was swimming, almost painfully, and she knew that if he kissed her, she would not be able to resist him for another instant. Even now, a part of her wanted to plead with him to give her the same pleasure that he had that night, even though she knew she would have been mad to.
That was exactly what he wanted, for her to fall apart in his touch, and she knew it all too clearly.
He slipped his hand to her chin, his finger pressed against the underside to guide her gaze to his. She met it steadily, almost defiantly, silently insisting that he give her an answer. He owed her at least that before she let whatever passion that stood between them take control of her once and for all.
“Because I yearn for that sharp tongue of yers, lass,” he replied, dragging his nose across her cheek, inhaling the scent of her greedily, like he wished for nothing more than to sink into the enveloping grip of their passion.
And, at last, his mouth found hers.
His tongue parted her lips like he wanted to taste her tongue right then and there, remind himself of what about it he had missed so much.
Her hands flexed at her sides for a moment, considering what it might be like to resist him, just to see what his reaction would be. But, unable to hold back any longer, she pushed them into his hair, her tongue sweeping back against his as he pushed her against the tree. One hand slipped to her leg, gripping her thigh through her skirts. Even with the fabric between them, it felt like he could have reached inside of her from that very spot.
The passion was pooling now where it had before, a need for him that seemed to overwhelm everything else. She knew that they were out in the woods, was aware on some distant level that someone might catch sight of them in such a scandalous pose, but when his tongue brushed another caress against hers and he began to bunch the fabric of her dress in his hand, she could not have cared.
