A Forbidden Love (17 page)

Shadow snorted when his hoof was released. With a pat on the rump to encourage him, the horse stepped toward the bank and dipped his muzzle into the icy stream.

Anthony’s gaze then settled on her. The sunlight danced in his eyes, the reflective pools flashing like emerald gems, winking in full brilliancy.

He advanced.

Her stomach knotted.

“Should we reach your camp by tomorrow, do you think?”

She struggled for words. “Tomorrow night, perhaps, or the morning after.”

“And you’re sure the caravan will still be there?”

“My people would never leave without me,” she insisted.

“I only wanted to make sure you had a home to go to.”

The softness of his voice sent her pulse tapping. Swift, energetic little beats. And when his eyes darkened at their prolonged stares, and her pulse pattered even faster, she found something else to occupy her attention, narrowing in on Anthony’s horse.

He followed her gaze. “We should get going.”

She let out a weary sigh, as he sauntered over to the animal. It was hard being so close to Anthony, feeling those intense green eyes burrowing through her, wanting to reach out and stroke that finely chiseled face, and press her fingertips over a pair of soft lips. Lips that had given her so much pleasure the night before…

She curled her hands into fists, just in case she was daft enough to try anything so absurd.

Anthony stood next to Shadow and waited for the animal to have his fill of water. When the horse reared his head and nuzzled his chin over his master’s unruly curls, he let out a deep, hearty chuckle, patting the great beast’s neck in return for the affectionate gesture.

Sabrina’s eyes never wavered from the pair.

First to mount, Anthony nudged the horse forward and extended his hand for her to climb up behind him.

“Are you sure you’d rather not ride up front?”

She just stared at the open palm. What was the matter with her? She’d ridden all morning behind Anthony with no catastrophic results. Why now, all of a sudden, was she so hesitant?

“I’ll walk,” she said brusquely, and headed through the sparse brush, back toward the main road.

Shadow’s muzzle veered over her shoulder as the animal fell in step behind her.

“You’re not walking back to your camp,” he objected. “You’ve been laid up for days and are still too weak.”

“I don’t intend to walk all the way home, just a few miles. I feel fine.”

She heard a sigh behind her and was sure it hadn’t come from the horse.

She was right. Anthony dismounted and took Shadow by the reins. He was at her side, so close, they bumped arms, and she took one giant step away from him to avoid any more jolts along the way.

A quick glance at him and she caught the mellow lines of his profile shift into a smile. Damn that rogue! He found her anxiety amusing, and she wasn’t the least bit indulgent of his humor. She was having enough trouble keeping her wits about her without his laughing at her to make matters worse. What’s more, his smile was always the most disarming of all his qualities.

When she next risked a sidelong glimpse at him, it was to find his features were inscrutable. Gone was that wicked smile, but the mischievous gleam in his bright green eyes still sparkled.

She wanted to ignore him, but she wanted him back on his horse even more.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Walking alongside you.”

At that hedging response, she inquired impatiently, “Why?”

“If you insist on being stubborn, then I’ll prove equally as headstrong. What if you faint? Someone has to catch you.”

But his unnerving presence faded into the back of her mind just then, as her attention was snagged elsewhere. With a sense of delight, her eyes narrowed on what appeared to be a cluster of knotted vines. She walked over to the bush for a closer inspection. It was!

“Sabrina, what’s the matter with you?”

It did look rather odd, her tugging and tugging, and the willful branches refusing to give way. But she didn’t care. She ignored his question and bent each of the three stems until they snapped, the knotted cluster of intersecting vines falling into her palm.

With a triumphant smile, she looked up to find a perplexed Anthony watching her with interest.

“Did you just do battle with a bush?”

“More like battle with the faeries,” she clarified.

“I beg your pardon?”

She held up the tangled vines. “See how they’re knotted?”

Narrowing in on the interwoven mess, he nodded. “So?”

“It means the faeries have tied them.” Fastened to the horse was her bag, and she tucked the tiny bundle of vines inside. “It’s a powerful charm.”

He gave her an odd look. “I think you’ve gone too long without food. Perhaps we should break for luncheon before moving on.”

Since she was rather hungry, she readily agreed, though not before she gave him an annoyed look for his dry remark.

Anthony tethered his horse to a nearby bush and collected a small bundle of food wrapped in white linen. He had purchased the fare from the inn before they’d departed.

Settling onto the mossy grass, sheltered by a light canopy of sparsely lined trees, they broke their fast, dividing the smoked ham and bread between them. Neither said a word to the other for the first little while, content with their meal and the tranquil surroundings. But that all changed soon enough.

“Do you often see faeries?”

His voice was smooth. It was deep and rich to be sure, but she couldn’t tell by his tone if he was merely curious in his inquiry or if he was humoring her.

“The faeries don’t show themselves to gypsies, or to anyone else for that matter. They like to cause mischief when no one’s looking.”

“Where do they live?”

“Some live in the forest, others in the fields, and there are those that live in the water.”

A blond brow arched. “Nymphs, you mean?”

She nodded.

“Ah, then they do show themselves to man, for I have seen one.”

He was smiling. She’d seen that smile before. It was a boyish grin, charming, with the strength to knock the very breath from her lungs. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ve seen one?”

Anthony broke his bread, the crumbs raining down over his black leather boots. “Some time ago, I was walking through the woods when I came upon a stream and beheld a water nymph.”

He sounded sincere, like a boy with a secret he readily wished to impart. She forgot all about her food as she leaned in to better hear him. “What did the nymph look like?”

“She was very beautiful,” he said softly, the hue of his green eyes darkening. “Glistening water drops bathed her body like a torrent of jewels. Her long, flowing hair was as black as soot, her eyes as blue as the sea.”

There was an unexpected jolt in the pit of her stomach, followed by a scarlet tint that crept into her cheeks. He was talking about
her
. No one had ever said such…nice things about her. To hear herself described with reverence and in such flowery terms left her heart thumping in her ears and her limbs refusing to move.

Slowly, his hand came up to caress her cheek. It was a tender touch, leaving her skin prickling all over. “The nymph was every bit as enchanting as legend claims.” His powerful fingers moved to brush over her mouth in feathery strokes. “I’ve never come across anyone so lovely. She will haunt my memory for some time to come.”

Sabrina seemed to fall into his heavenly green eyes. And it was a swift, deep fall. She realized then she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him and be happy. And deep down in her heart she knew she could be—if only there was a place on earth where they could be together.

But there wasn’t.

She could no more break with the traditions of her world than he could with his. And short of creating their own world, they could never be together.

The bleak truth struck her soundly. The sadness of it all overwhelmed her, as though a weight was crushing her chest. And then the fear of growing too fond of a man she could never be with encouraged her to break away from his entrancing eyes.

She pulled back. The look in Anthony’s eyes was that of a glowing fire, vowing to consume her. She could feel herself being pulled into that fire and quickly scrambled to her feet.

But the bond between them wasn’t broken. She wondered if it ever would be. A small part of her hoped not.

“I think we should keep going,” she said after a long and tense pause.

He nodded and rose to his feet, his deep green eyes never wavering from her.

Chapter 15

T
he somber hues of the gloaming sky swirled together, as the last rays of sunlight streaked over the distant horizon. An unusually warm wind weaved gently through the meadow, the rustling blades of grass bowing in unison to the will of the breeze. There was the scent of wild flowers in the air, coupled with the soft fragrance of acacia shrubs. Nighttime critters chirped, hummed, or croaked their evening concertos. Not that Anthony noticed any of it.

He was absorbed with the fading sun. Twenty minutes had gone by, he estimated, since Sabrina had ambled down to the nearby creek for her bath. It being such a pleasant evening, she had insisted upon one, and after promising to stay within a reasonable distance of him, she had meandered off into the bush unescorted. He’d reckoned it was safe enough for her to do so, that no dangers lurked behind any shrubs. But still, he wouldn’t leave her unattended for too long. Another five minutes and then he would go in search of her. Though why the girl preferred to bathe in the wild rather than in the privacy of a nearby inn was beyond him. Perhaps habit was just too hard to break.

His own lustful habits were indeed too hard to break. Proof was in the images now invading his mind. Images of his beautiful gypsy dipping into the wrinkled waters of the creek, her smooth skin textured with tiny goose bumps, her full breasts growing cold in the nippy waters. He pictured himself warming those beautiful breasts, caressing the heavy mounds, kissing away the chill from the tight, puckering nipples.

He closed his eyes and shuddered at the erotic vision. God, how he wanted Sabrina. His whole body ached for her. And he knew she wanted him in return. Her response to him the other night took care of any lingering doubts on the matter.

So why had their night of passion come to such a swift end?

It baffled him. The girl knew he wanted her regardless of her bloodline, so that wasn’t the root of her enduring reservations. Perhaps she was accustomed to making love outdoors? No, she wasn’t the kind to be so finicky. Besides, one word from her and he’d have taken her out onto the nearest hilltop without a qualm.

So what was it then? Why did her hesitation persist? And then it came to him. Perhaps it was her first time—with a
gajo
. Was she nervous about being with an outsider? It was beginning to make some sense. She wanted him, and yet she didn’t trust him enough to be with him. And if such was the case, then he would simply have to put an end to her misgivings once and for all.

His gaze went back to the dusky horizon. Five minutes had gone by and still there was no sign of Sabrina. Checking to see his horse was still securely tethered to the tree, Anthony set out after his tardy gypsy to make sure she was all right.

The murmur of the trickling creek guided him toward the shoreline, where he followed the windings of the bank, scanning the surrounding terrain for any sign of her.

Searching for some movement in the water, he almost ended up strolling right past Sabrina. She was seated so still, curled in a ball with her arms hooked around her bent knees. In the hovering darkness he had mistaken her for a boulder embedded along the shoreline. On closer inspection, though, he noted the faint ripples in the water where her toes skimmed over the surface in lambent strokes. Apart from those graceful movements, she was perfectly inert, rapt with such intense thoughts that she didn’t even notice his approach.

A twig crunched beneath his booted heel, and the meditating water nymph scrambled to her feet in alarm.

“It’s only me,” he said to reassure her. “I was worried when you didn’t return to the meadow.”

Taut-limbed and flustered from her interrupted solitude, she wondered, “How long have I been gone?”

“Half an hour or so.”

His voice faded to a gruff whisper, as his eyes narrowed on her damp and snuggly twined chemise. The garment was fitted wantonly over her frame, a loose strap slumped down her arm, slightly exposing the smooth mound of her swelling breast.

It stirred his blood, to see her in such clinging attire, where every delicious curve was candidly outlined. Instinct propelled him to reach out and hook his forefinger around the straggling wet strap, tenderly sliding it back over her shoulder.

“You’ll catch cold,” he murmured, feeling her shiver under his languorous caress.

She wrapped her hands around her arms. “I’ll heal myself.”

He grinned at her riposte, but then he heard the chattering sound and his grin vanished. Her teeth were striking together, and he swiftly shrugged his riding coat off his shoulders.