Susana and the Scot by Sabrina York

Author:Sabrina York
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781466878556
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Andrew woke in a dreamy fog. His body hummed with pleasure … and arousal. Memories of the night before flitted through his mind. Though he was ensconced, not in a smelly kennel on a lumpy pallet, but in a luxurious bed in a finely decorated room, dissatisfaction rippled through him. Because he was alone.

Though he’d spent most of the night with Susana—and though she was not far away, perhaps still sleeping in her room in the next wing—her absence now was a gaping hole in his soul.

Then again … perhaps she was still sleeping in her room.

A flare of excitement flickered. He glanced at the window. Though it was raining—and thank God he wasn’t sleeping in the kennel—he could see that the sun was just rising. If he hurried, maybe he could wake her with a kiss. With that thought, he pulled on his breeks and tunic, ran his fingers through his hair, and headed for the west wing.

He was almost to the grand staircase, which separated the wings of the castle, when an odd sound, a dull thud, captured his attention. He knew that sound, and it had no place in a castle.

It sounded again, followed by a warbled cheer.

Perplexed, he pushed open the door from beyond which the strange sounds emanated, stepped inside, and stared.

It wasn’t often that one saw a small girl, perched on the second-story rail of a library, shooting unsuspecting books with a bow and arrow.

Isobel drew back and sighted on a shelf across the room. She teetered precariously and then tightened her legs around the rail … and then let fly. The arrow screamed across the room and landed in the spine of a tome with a dull thunk.

“Woo-hoo!” she cried. And then, in her exhilaration, she loosened her hold on the rail and wobbled again.

Andrew’s heart lurched. What the hell was it with this girl and heights?

Rather than call out to her, and possibly startle her and cause her to topple to the floor far below, he rushed in and grabbed her by the waist and tugged her from her precarious perch.

She screeched. Her bow tumbled from her fingers; it whipped down and down and clattered onto the hardwood floor below.

“What are you doing?” This they both demanded of the other as he set her safely on the ground.

Andrew sighed. “You were going to fall.”

“I wasna going to fall. And look. You made me drop my bow.” She peered over the edge, a petulant frown on her face.

“The bow suffered the fall rather well. You, my lady, wouldna have.”

She blew out a damp breath. It sounded like Pffft. “I’ve never fallen before. I’m verra practiced at this.”

And aye. About that … He gazed across the room to the prickling bristles of arrows deeply embedded in what appeared to be the drama section. Shakespeare would not be pleased. “Why are you shooting books in the library anyway?” What had they ever done to her?

She shrugged. “It’s raining.”

How that signified, he didn’t know.

Her nose rumpled and she added, “I was bored.

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