He smiled as if also recalling the incident. “As you wish.” With a small bow, he stepped aside and leaned a hand on the tree.
Thank goodness the man could still see reason. “I want you to stop following—”
Something sifted beneath my feet. I glanced down just as a large root burst into the air, showering dirt everywhere. Before I could move, the root snaked around my waist and yanked me hard against the trunk.
Chapter Three
The Gift of Poetry
Air burst from my lungs. I sucked in another mouthful only to release it in an incoherent cry of alarm. Straining forward, I pulled at the thick brown root that held me in place with the efficiency of a rope. Dirt gritted my eyes. I blinked and shook my head, inadvertently setting off another shower of dirt that all but blinded me. Frustrated, I swiped a sleeve across my face to little effect.
Julian chuckled softly, and I whipped my head around to face him. “What did you do?” I demanded. Water streamed from my tear ducts, and I had to blink several more times before his face came into focus.
He eyed the root with a self-satisfied smile. “I would think that self-evident.”
Painfully so, and the stunt would no doubt leave a trail of purple bruises on my stomach. I strained again, the effort nearly splitting me in two. Wet leaves and mud slipped underfoot. Not to be outdone, I dug the heels of my riding boots into the trunk for better leverage. Nothing budged—not the tree, nor the root, nor Julian’s iron will. Sweat coated my forehead. The root bit deeper, and more capillaries burst beneath the skin. When my meal threatened to revisit, I gave up the struggle and sagged against the tree.
“Let me go.” Panic tightened my skin, pulled it like a too small glove over my frame.
“I don’t think so. Not until you’ve answered my questions.”
“Do it now, or I’ll scream bloody murder.”
Julian didn’t even flinch at the threat. “Try it and you’ll find a branch in that lovely mouth of yours.”
I drew in a sharp breath. “You wouldn’t dare!”
He pushed away from the tree to take a position in front of me. “You might be surprised at just what I would dare do right now.”
“You’ve no right to use Brigid’s power this way.”
This earned another laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you, Selah Kilbrid. I had hoped you’d be pleased to know my gift was not limited to cultivating strawberries.” His gaze moved to my lips. “Though that particular skill was not without its benefits.”
My cheeks burned from the blatant reminder of what had occurred between us. “The present situation is more to my liking,” I lied. Not that I wanted to be kissed again, but most activities would be preferable to being strapped to a tree against my will.
Julian’s gaze dropped back to my waist. “I’ve you to thank for the idea. Until our time together in the queen’s garden, I never considered the other uses of such a gift.” He held up a gloved hand for my inspection. “Or have you already forgotten the nasty burns you left me with that night?”
I jutted my chin forward. “Of course not. But I had little choice when you refused to release me.” I dug my fingers beneath the root and tugged. “This...this is imprisonment for no other reason than to serve your whim.”
Power surged in my palm, begging to be of use. We were separated by an arm’s length at best, a distance that would allow for a solid touch. The trick would be catching Julian by surprise before there was time to retreat. A small patch of burgundy waistcoat showed between the edges of his greatcoat—a perfect target if I could just strike fast enough.
Hoping to distract him, I settled my gaze on the opposite bank of the stream. The water gurgled a disinterested chatter. A squirrel sat on a thick tree branch watching us. I tilted my head a fraction of an inch, then narrowed my eyes as though studying something of interest. It didn’t take long before Julian’s eyes followed...
I thrust my hand toward him. He jerked back, and my fingertips barely brushed the rough wool.
Hell’s teeth! How had he moved so fast?
“Now, now, Selah. Burn me again and I’ll leave you here all day.” He glanced toward the sky. “Looks like more rain. Perhaps a good dousing will calm that temper of yours.”
I scowled at him, well aware of the sole remedy for my temper at present—Julian facedown in the mud, and me free from this cursed tree. The idea alone served as a balm of sorts.
“This is folly, Julian. Mr. Roth will eventually come looking for me. Then what will you do? Tie him up as well?” I clamped my teeth together, realizing the mistake too late.