“Not yet, no, but much of our ancestry is shrouded in mystery and we’re not yet twenty-five. No one really knows…”
“You’re a dreamer.” Chris scoffed. “Shut up and eat your food.” He glanced back at Aubrey with a wink. “We’ll take the job. Sounds like fun. Just two questions, though. When do we meet the band and would it be unprofessional to ask for autographs?”
Before she’d stepped over the threshold into the mansion, Jaylon was there, towering over her, eyes blazing, fingers wrapped tightly around one wrist.
“Where were you?” he growled.
Aubrey flinched, yanked her arm back. Futile gesture really, but instinct drove her to fight. “Let go of me.”
He glared down at her for a heartbeat, silent communication passing between them. She saw things in his eyes again, things speaking of possession, desire. He inhaled deeply and growled again.
“Who were you with?”
She frowned, twisted her arm again. “I was meeting with my new security team, if you must know. Now let me go.”
He actually looked a little sheepish but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he slid his hand down to entwine his fingers with hers. “I have something to show you,” he said as he tugged her forward. “Come with me.”
She sighed, thought about digging her heels in, knew it would be pointless. “Fine.”
He led her outside, into the forest.
“The wolf—” Aubrey started.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’m here with you.”
She bristled—she wasn’t worried about herself. She’d been trained as a wolf hunter! It was him she was worried about. She opened her mouth to argue when she was struck speechless by the something he had to show her.
In a small clearing, illuminated by hundreds of tiny lights, was another target area, this one more extravagant than the one before. Her gaze jumped from one target to another. Some were high in trees, moving back and forth, rigged up in some way that she couldn’t wrap her head around. The lights cast a beautiful and yet eerie glow on the area, like stars blanketing their little spot in the forest.
“Solar lights,” he whispered as he swept his hand toward the array. “You like it?”
Aubrey swallowed, didn’t really want to look at him. It was beautiful, both in the way it looked and the gesture. Thoughtful, considerate, so much work. “I don’t understand.” Maybe not the right words, but the only ones that she could force out. She was tripping over the thoughts that she really wanted to speak. “Why?”
Jaylon tugged her arm, forcing her to look at him, and when she did her heart thumped faster, harder. He was smiling, his eyes full of hope. “I want you to teach me how to shoot.” He pointed to a nearby tree. Leaning against the trunk was her bow case and another bow for him—black, brand new, a quiver of arrows next to it, bright blue feathers catching her eye. Beautiful. “I’d like to do something that you love.”
Aubrey felt a lump rise to her throat, emotion making it hard to swallow. If she opened her mouth now, she would choke on her words, words she didn’t have the nerve to say. She nodded and forced a smile. This man, how he unnerved her.
He didn’t force her to answer or respond, like he knew how hard this was for her. Behaving so differently from days before…all the harsh, cold, blunt words and attitude vanished, replaced with this generosity, understanding. She didn’t get it. He was throwing her off. Confusing her. It would be a hell of a lot easier to forget about him if he continued to act like an ass. Her heart was already at risk when he wasn’t behaving like Prince Charming.
He released her hand and jogged to the weapons. Moments later, he brought both to her, the smile never leaving his face. “You’re going to have to start from the very basics. I don’t even think this thing is strung properly.”
She nodded again, her mind immediately shifting to practical thoughts as she took his weapon in hand. “Um, yeah, we’ll need to fix this a bit.”
He was a good shot, once he got the basic understanding of how the recurve worked. He didn’t quite match her skill but his coordination was above average and he was even able to hit some of the moving targets after a few tries. He insisted on keeping a tally of shots. Of course, she was winning by a few dozen points.
He let his last arrow go and it went wide, missing the stationary target by at least a foot. She tried to stifle her laugher, but after hours of training with him, she’d loosened up, become more comfortable, relaxed.
“You laughing at me?” He turned on her, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging his lips.
She lifted her hand to her mouth, tried to stop herself. “I can’t help it. That shot was terrible.”
His smile broke across his face. “Yeah, that one was pretty pathetic.”
“You did very well, though. I would almost think you’d had some training before today.”