Wandering Off the Path (2 page)

He didn’t touch her. Instead, he fingered the edge of her scarlet hood, tracing the ridge of fabric. His finger hovered inches from her skin, not touching her. His heat transferred through the thin air to tickle her.

Abigail shook at his near touch, her crimson cloak insufficient defence against the stranger’s seeking gaze and tempting promise. Her heartbeat sped up as she gasped for each breath. “I’ll be fine, sir, as long as I stay on the path.” She repeated her mantra, though it no longer held the same security.

Desires bloomed in her mind, filling her head with the craving to run her fingers through his thick hair and pull him towards her needy body. The temptation to feel his touch gliding along her skin or his taste along her tongue almost overwhelmed her sense of reason.

She silently cursed herself for these longings and her inability to be the upstanding child her grandmother wished for. For her failure to run from the possibility of injury, and to be the granddaughter who would be happy with the safe, secure life they’d been given.

She stepped towards the stranger and closer to the danger he might offer, the call of excitement too delicious to resist. All the passion and pleasure that existed on the edge of propriety and safety was now only a fraction from her reach.

“That may be, my sweet.” His nostrils flared, his chest puffing with his deep breaths. The soft breeze brushed across her skin as he inhaled the air around her. He enveloped her with a hungry stare, as if he wished to consume her whole, which only exhilarated her further. Blood rushed through her body, heating her limbs. “But do you want to settle for
fine,
my dear? Or do you want more?”

The statement rolled through her mind like a soft whisper spoken in a dream or the tangled desires of her heart never before fully voiced. His words stroked a familiar place inside her.
Fine
was what she’d been given.
Fine
was what she received and did not complain about, because that was all she’d expected. But a longing buried deep within her had always wanted something else.

It wanted excitement, passion, satisfaction. Beyond what
fine
could ever offer.

She shifted her hand on the basket handle, forcing her duties to the front of her mind. She needed to go home, to bring her wares to her grandmother. She needed to return to the safety of her quiet life before she no longer had the choice.

Her gaze moved to the stranger before her. A wicked grin spread across his face, making her feel dizzy. How simple it would be to give in, to take advantage of his intriguing offer. But what would happen next? Would she receive the thrill she had always sought? Or would she find something more sinister within the stranger’s suggestion?

“No. I can’t.”

The voice of obedience rang in her ears, imploring her to move, to follow the path her grandmother expected, regardless of her own wishes. A voice too weak to survive against the stranger’s continued onslaught.

“I must go.”

Fearing she might still be lost, despite her decline, Abigail gripped her basket tightly, turning from the mysterious man and the temptation he offered. Her crimson cloak swirled behind her as she ran down the twining dirt path. She was unsure if she raced from the man, or from the urge to turn back.

Wolf watched as the woman fled him, escaping in a flash of scarlet down the road. The moonlight beamed off the pale skin of her neck and cheek, shining like marble. His skin had never met hers, but he imagined her flesh would be warm and receptive beneath his hands. A woman that brave and curious would definitely be warm.

The earth crunched beneath his feet as he stepped from the forest line into the clear walk. He’d never intended to travel this path tonight, having more efficient routes to return home. He’d only come to town to sell his doe skins at market and spend the few coins he’d received on ale before heading on his way. But once he’d seen the copper-haired beauty, her eyes had captured him completely. So big and bright, they looked out on the world begging for more, for something the innocent maiden couldn’t name. Emanating a plea Wolf needed to answer. Just the simple look from her had him hard as an oak post.

There’d been no alternative. He’d needed to follow her. He had to know her.

He mindlessly kicked a rock out of his way. The stone hit something else hard, scattering the dead leaves around it. The sound reverberated through the otherwise quiet woods. He couldn’t believe the prize he’d found in the red-caped woman, when she’d wandered down the abandoned alley, where a couple rutted in the street like animals. The honest interest that had crossed her face had amazed and aroused him. Her soft pink lips had parted in a gasp, begging to be touched. His mouth had watered at the sight of those breasts, high and tight, heaving beneath her cloak with her deep breaths. The points of her nipples had poked out, visible through the cloth.

He’d never seen a woman so interested, not holding back her passion or hiding behind her inexperience. Instead, she had openly desired more. And he desperately wanted to give her all that she dreamed of.

Deep in the forest, an owl hooted, followed by a rustle of leaves as it flew from the trees in search of prey. He paid the animal no mind, his gaze focused forward on the last trace of red trailing through the woods. His own prey was still focused within his sight.

Watching her hadn’t been enough—he’d needed to talk to her, to know her, to see if she was truly as interested as she appeared. No, this short encounter on the road hadn’t been enough, not even close. The wanting and interest that had flickered in her eyes had only flared his need higher. His desire to see her give in to the craving she warred with, to give herself up to complete abandon overshadowed all else. Whether it was right or wise didn’t matter. Everything else fled in the face of the enticing woman. Not his family or the pain their loss still housed in his heart. No thought occupied his mind beyond her, reason replaced with a desperate need to know more.

He licked his lips and picked up his pace along the deserted lane. Determination filled his steps, dirt kicked up behind him with each of his strides. Everything he wanted was only yards down the path. Nothing would stand in his way to possess her.

“Grandmother”—Abigail closed the cottage door behind her—“I’m home.”

She dropped her basket on the nearby table, relieved that her grandmother didn’t immediately emerge to interrogate Abigail for her delayed return. She clutched her hand to her chest, struggling to slow her loud and ragged breathing, hoping to undo all evidence of the encounter on the road. She wrapped her cloak around her as she shivered, her body cooling, her heart returning to its normal rate.

If her grandmother knew what had occurred tonight, she wouldn’t be allowed to leave the cabin again. Her grandmother’s protective instincts would deprive Abigail of her only outlet to the world beyond their home. Regardless of her current fear that she’d be tempted again, and this time unable to say no, she couldn’t allow that to happen. She combed her fingers through her hair, attempting to smooth the mass of knots. A shiver raced down her back with the tugs on each difficult snag. The wind, combined with the urgency of her escape, had snarled her hair into a tangled mess that would take hours to straighten. It served her right. She deserved far worse punishment for speaking with a stranger alone. Many weren’t so fortunate after such an encounter.

But the danger had been what had appealed to her, the draw that had encouraged her to act imprudently, despite the possible consequences. Beneath the bare oak trees, perched on the edge of the path, her body had tingled, alive as she’d never been before.

She shook with the memory she’d relive over the many quiet years to come. Was this one moment all she’d have? One short memory to replay for the rest of her life, settled into a mundane routine with Hunter, or someone like him?

Uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts, Abigail called again into the dim room, “Grandmother?” She needed distraction from these startling questions, before she decided to act.

A damp chill rippled down her spine. She pulled her cloak closer, turning towards the hearth. The cold stone berth lay almost empty, the fire burned down to embers. The soft glow of the coals was the only evidence that any blaze had lit the chimney today. She stirred the hearth with a dismembered branch, the flames leaping to life upon the stone and giving off a lovely, necessary heat.

“Grandmother?” Abigail shouted, unease and worry wobbling through her words, the silence closing in around her. “Are you here?”

Fear coiled thick and dark in her stomach. Though still early autumn, frost already appeared on their windows each morning, making the fire’s heat a necessity. Her grandmother would never forget the flame during such a cold season.

She placed a large log on the now burning fire, watching as the flames broke down the wood’s resistance and set it ablaze. She inserted the candle wick into the hearth, the thick string surging to life.

She remembered only a few instances when her grandmother had left their home, and never without her accompaniment. There was certainly no reason for her to abandon the cabin on such a cold night, while Abigail was still out. She had to be here somewhere.

Holding the candle close, Abigail moved through the main room, searching the small space that only held a thin woollen carpet and the stout table and benches centred upon it. All was empty, devoid of any sign of her grandmother. By this time of night, her grandmother would have their meagre supper prepared for them, yet no supplies were disturbed.

She turned to her grandmother’s bedroom. The hinges moaned low and deep, unaccustomed to her quick, frantic yank as she pulled back the door. The sound echoed through the quiet room. The bed lay unoccupied and unused—the sheets still made in tight folds. The barren floors gave no more evidence than the previous space.

Trepidation filled Abigail, freezing her blood. She fled the room, migrating towards her own chamber. The chance of finding her grandmother within appeared unlikely, but, desperate, she reached for the handle.

The air prickled around her, alive with energy, as if another creature inhabited the space with her. Her eyes scanned the room with hope, searching for anything amiss in the limited candlelight. The empty bed stood in the centre of the room, the corners not as crisp as the tight creases of her grandmother’s.

She stepped to the mattress, and noticed a different texture among the sheets. Placed in the middle of her pillow, a folded square of dirty parchment rested, as if awaiting her return. Spreading out the rumpled corners, she pulled the light close to the page. Two hastily scrawled sentences crested the paper’s surface. “
I went to return the neighbour’s cow. I will be home soon.”

She slumped onto the bed, holding the note close, her fingers tightening around the candlestick. When had she left? Darkness had fallen hours ago, and the closest neighbour lived only a mile away. Her grandmother wouldn’t have started her journey so late. At least, Abigail didn’t think so. Why hadn’t she waited for her so she could help return the animal? What had made the errand so dire? And why was she still gone?

Light shifted along the floorboards. The shadow of a bird flew across the face of the moon in the night sky, drawing her attention to the farthest corner of the room. In the filtering moonlight, Abigail noticed a dark shape, like the toe of a boot, shift in the shadows.

Fear coloured her vision and her mind spun. Her body shook in a combination of dread, anger and exhilaration. Her breath caught in her lungs. She assessed her surroundings, desperately searching for what she’d missed in the small room.

Jumping up, she thrust the candlelight in the direction of the stirring. As if from a dream, the tempting stranger appeared before her. His skin glimmered bronze in the candle’s glow, accentuating the contours of his weather-worn features. A devilish smile curled his lips and his eyes gleamed dark and dangerous in the limited light.

Her stomach twisted. Her heart thumped, filling her with heat stronger and warmer than the flame only inches from her flesh. The yearning anticipation that had suffused her upon the moonlit path swelled inside her again, coaxing her to follow where she shouldn’t go.

“What are you doing here?” She extended the candle before her like a weapon, ready to club him if he came too close, though she had no idea how to wield it without setting the entire cabin ablaze.

“I came for you, my pet,” he growled, and tendrils of longing raced through her. “I followed you here. Your scent and desire drew me.”

Her muscles tensed beneath the effect of his words and heated gaze. She should be appalled. Insulted by the assumption that he could make her his with a few pretty words. But all she wanted was to know more. To find out all the secrets hidden behind his dark gaze and cocky grin. “Who are you?”

“I am Wolf.” He bent forward in a mocking, courtly bow. “And what’s your name, my sweet?”

“Abigail.” She cringed at her eager answer.

“It’s a pleasure to finally be introduced, dear Abigail.” His tongue ran along the length of his perfect mouth.

Thoughts blossomed in her mind of other locations his tongue could caress. Heat flooded her, scorching her from the inside out.

“Though I must admit, I enjoyed our previous meeting as well.” His smile expanded.

She breathed deeply, attempting to calm her racing mind to evaluate his words. Was she as alluring as this Wolf said? The idea caused a stream of warmth to ripple through her body. She fisted her hands to prevent their shaking. An image of the bard’s devouring look upon his damsel filled her mind. Her heart pumped faster with the desire to be looked upon with the same yearning and devotion as the beauty in the market square.