In The Devil's Stables (Spirited #1)

Chapter 24: Part One

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Greyson followed Williams, all too aware of Charlie's thudding steps as she trailed behind them. Greyson wasn't surprised the scamp had followed. The lady had more courage and gumption than anyone he had ever met.

Hell, her scent of lilac had twined about his body like rope well before he had ever alighted himself of her. For the hundredth time in as many minutes, Greyson loathed that he had taken advantage of the lady. Entered her private bedchambers knowing in the pulsing of his blood and the throb in his loins that he wouldn't be able to resist her. Knew Charlie was missing the final piece in their game - that he knew of her gender. Her identity.

What kind of man did it make him that hadn't been able to care?

As soon as she had spread her arms to him, Greyson had been lost. His feet had moved over the hollow floorboards and he had been atop her. Kissing her.

Hell, she had been kissing him.

Greyson's skin itched, his senses heightened, as he tried to bury his awareness of her. But that damned lilac teased his nostrils - so soothing and so damned enticing all at once.

Just like the lady herself.

His attraction to her hadn't diminished in the least, Greyson realized. It had only grown with his brief taste of her.

He felt himself thicken remembering his actions only moments before. When had the she-devil shed her innocent and hesitant disguise and switched to the lioness damned answers of him. Demanding his response.

Greyson could have groaned. If only she had known.

Shaking off the plaguing thoughts, Greyson forced himself to look upon the destruction of his stables. It hadn't been an accident. Something Greyson had known in some recess of his thoughts as true.

It explained the nightmare of last evening.

The cloying fatalistic sense that everything he held dear was at risk. The fire licking at his heels. Charlie, dancing and always out of reach only to disappear into a black pit. Then the wolf.

Greyson shivered.

To what purpose did someone seek him harm? He wondered. Who was this adversary who had declared war upon his person?

Why him?

And devil take it, why the bloody hell now?

It seemed he would get no answers.

Part of Greyson stopped to wonder if he was even asking the right questions?

Charlie blasphemed behind him and Greyson glanced over his shoulder in time to see Charlie right herself. She glared at the plank she had tripped over, half hidden by fallen dirt and rock. "Blimey, but that was close," she grumbled.

He chuckled at her put-upon expression, realizing her boot's appeared rather too large for her feet. His amusement was met with a fierce glare, her eyes sparking like banked lightning.

"What did I tell ye?" Williams mumbled bringing Greyson's attention back before him. Williams words were soft, low enough that Charlie couldn't hear. "I bluidy told the lass to be careful. But does anyone listen? Nay. I get bluidy scolded for motherin'. It's insulting!"

Greyson snorted, unable to keep the smirk from his face.

Your man is mothering me.

Greyson had never heard something so absurd in his life, and yet, it was in the rigid lines of Williams' back as he had defended his actions in regards to Charlie nigh on five minutes ago. Concern had been evident in his tone. His cheekbones had the barest red tint as his stable master - the most dedicated man he knew with a backbone of iron and an ethic of ten men - had blushed.