Ryon and Patrick had never been friends. They’d done some military combat training together during their education years. In that time, they’d managed to compete and learn to loathe each other. They both had one thing in common though—an interest in Penelope Farris.
Penelope, or Pen, as he preferred to call her, no matter how much it rankled her nerves, put her hands on her hips in a move he recognized all too well. Anger. “Yes, what is this interruption for, General?”
His fist twitched. He hated when she called him that. They both knew it. Thus why she did it. The little devil.
“We need to talk.”
That surprised her. “About what?” She fidgeted with the lace of her tutu, one thin slipper lifting to scratch her calf with the toe.
Ryon pulled the folded missive out of his pocket and flashed it at her.
“Oh…that,” she said vaguely, cheeks turning redder. They both knew why he was here. She was the only one pretending.
The duke wouldn’t have any of it.
“Listen here, General, I’ve come with good money here so let the girl dance.” The duke leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Penelope’s small waist. His hand dipped even lower to grab a feel of something he had no right touching.
Ryon told himself that what he did next was because of that inappropriate grope and not because of his possessive feelings for Pen.
Murmuring a brief excuse for what he was about to do, Ryon whipped the duke’s hand away and ducked, pushing his shoulder into Penelope’s midriff in the next second. He lifted her up and over his shoulder so easily you’d think he did it often. In fact, a feeling of déjà vu struck him.
They had done this once before under similar circumstances. And look where that had landed them.
There was no stopping him now. He had everyone’s attention trying to steal their most talented dancer. But no one dared to stop the general. Not even the duke dared to stop him with the hard look Ryon sent his way. Everyone by now had heard the tentative history between Ryon and Pen.
Tonight it was all coming to an end.
He could feel the tightness in her muscles as he waded through the crowd, could feel her nails scraping into his back where she hung on for dear life, possibly puncturing his skin—on purpose. Ryon made it through the dance hall and out the back door, one arm latching Penelope’s rear-end to him.
It wasn’t the closest he’d ever held her, but it was the most he’d touched her in a long time. He’d take it. Having her touch him felt far better than not.
Outside he hitched her higher on his shoulder, not even feeling her slight weight, and marched to the woods with only one place in mind.
Maybe in a way it was their place. It was the only time she’d ever opened up to him and admitted her feelings for him. He’d been stunned stupid by her honest, raw statement, and staggered by the passion of their kiss. After their first kiss, like a young fool, he’d been unable to speak for a long minute. And, typical to any naïve fool, he’d said something he still regretted to this day.
“Do you mind telling me what you’re doing, General?”
Penelope’s anger jerked him swiftly back to reality and out of his reverie.
There it was again. The nickname, not his real name. She never used it; it was too personal. If she gave him a chance, maybe she’d see how much he knew about her, how much he cared.
For this he needed to be face to face, so he readjusted her in his arms so that he cradled her to his chest like a baby. She reluctantly wrapped an arm around his neck—and resumed glaring at him like she wished he’d drop dead.
“You shouldn’t frown like that,” he told her.
“Why not?” An instant, snapping response.
“Because it makes me want to kiss you.”
Her breath hitched. He’d surprised her. Who knew he was a man of surprises, aside from using his cleverness in military strategies. He’d never thought before that he could use those same skills toward wooing Pen. But the idea sounded better and better the longer he thought about it.
Slender fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. He nearly stumbled a step when she pressed her cheek again his. Gentle breath teased his ear and his grip tightened around her reflexively. She always managed to catch him by surprise. Just one of the many things he appreciated about her.
The effect she had over him had been there from the moment he first saw her. Any move she made touched him like a bolt of energy, left him aroused and edgy. Even the simplest touch such as her wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling closer made his vision hazy.
From how they must look you’d think she’d asked to be carried out of the club and not forced. He didn’t have much further to go.