Ruthless Heart. Emma Lang

own sanity for embarking on it. As the cold seeped into her bones, she shivered, not realizing just how cool the night would get. Her bag bumped against her knee with the constant jarring motion of the horse. As her breath came out in small puffs, she shifted in the saddle because her behind was numb, along with her thighs. How long could the man ride? God help her if he planned on riding all night.

      Grady had known someone was following him. Whoever it was didn’t know what the hell he was doing, that much was obvious. The idiot didn’t have the common sense to be stealthy as he plodded along behind him. Since he didn’t know why he was being followed, he kept riding longer than he would normally have before stopping for the night.

      His human shadow stayed close behind him, apparently determined to freeze to death right along with Grady. He prided himself, and heavily relied, on his instincts. They were standing up and howling like a pack of coyotes right about then.

      The moon was high in the sky before he stopped near a thicket of trees. The sound of water nearby masked his movements as he jumped off the horse and crept over to wait for whomever was trailing him.

      Apparently oblivious to Grady’s movements, the stranger kept riding along. Grady crouched, his heart beating steadily as his muscles readied themselves. He sprang at the other rider, knocking them both onto the ground. As they rolled in the tall grass, he held on tight to the bastard until he heard him speak and realized he’d caught himself a woman.

      “Oh, my goodness, unhand me.” She had a husky voice, but it was definitely and unmistakably female.

      Grady reared back and peered at the face beneath the floppy hat. “What the hell?”

      “Did you just curse at me?” She pushed at his shoulders. “I’ll thank you to take your hands off me, you ruffian.”

      He couldn’t help it. A laugh burst from his throat, rusty and sharp. “Ruffian?”

      “Scoundrel. Rogue. Miscreant. Choose your favorite, just do as I say.” She pushed again, this time managing to shift a rock, which promptly dug into his hip.

      “Ow. Jesus Christ, woman, give me a minute to—”

      “I would prefer now instead of waiting a minute.” She sounded like a damn schoolteacher scolding him. Her vocabulary spoke volumes about the young woman who followed strangers around in the middle of the night. She didn’t belong, so what the hell was she doing?

      Before he could ask, she tried to extract herself and this time used her legs and feet as weapons connecting solidly with his balls.

      Pain ripped through him, and his stomach ended up somewhere near his throat. He rolled to the right, releasing the she-devil and trying to find a manly way not to throw up all over himself. It had been years since anyone had gotten the drop on him and gave him a kick to the nuts. He’d forgotten just how agonizing it was.

      Grady heard her scramble to her feet, then brush off her clothing with sharp strokes. He wanted to toss her in the mud.

      “You had no right to attack my person, sir. I am sure you’ll apologize for your behavior.”

      “You’re fucking loco, lady,” he gasped out between the pulses of pain.

      A gasp of breath was her only response. He got to his knees, almost anyway, and pressed his forehead into the cool ground. His breath was uneven as it escaped from his mouth. One hand cupped his crotch—there’d be no more riding that night—while the other slowly pushed himself up.

      “You’re out here in the middle of the night following me, then you kick me in the balls and you want an apology?” He snorted. “Not a fucking chance.”

      “You have an interesting vocabulary, sir. I’ll thank you to stop using profanity.”

      “And you talk like an uptight woman who spent her life in books. God help me if you’re ugly, too.” He expected a reaction, but certainly not a poke in the back. “Did you just poke me?”

      She ignored him. “I have no qualms about lodging a complaint with the local authorities.”

      Grady gritted his teeth against the incredibly annoying woman and managed to get to his feet. “Then make sure you tell them how you kicked me and poked me.”

      His vision was a bit blurry, but he was able to finally get a good look at her. She was kind of short, barely brushing his shoulder, with long dark hair, pale skin, and spectacles shining in the moonlight. Damn she looked like a schoolmarm, which really begged the question as to what she was doing. He was damn sure going to find out.

      “I did no such thing. I simply extricated myself from your attack.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared.

      Grady finally made it to his feet and sucked in a big breath. “How about we just call it even?”

      “What do you mean?” She peered at him, her brows knitted.

      “You go on your way, and I’ll go on mine.” Not on a horse until at least morning, that was for sure. Damn girl had feet like rocks.

      “B-but I don’t understand.”

      Grady realized two things at that moment. First, since the woman had definitely been following him, it would be a good idea to keep a close eye on her. Second, she had no idea what she was doing. She had on a thin cotton dress for pity’s sake. The nights went down to near freezing in the fall. He wasn’t one to have a soft heart, but she’d likely be dead in a day or two if he didn’t at least get her to the next town before he was rid of her.

      “What’s there to understand? You obviously don’t want to be around me, so be on your way.” He made a little shooing motion with his hand.

      “It’s late and dark. I was going to stop here at this clearing for the night.” She sounded quite sure of herself, or perhaps she was just a really good liar. Grady would put good money on her being the latter.

      “What clearing?” Grady peered around, still trying to focus on where they were.

      She pointed to the left up ahead of them. “That one there. I hear a source of running water, and there is a line of boulders to block the wind.”

      Damned if she wasn’t right, the little vixen. It was the perfect clearing to stop for the night. He’d be a fool to continue on with throbbing balls in the pitch dark. She turned her back and retrieved her horse, leaving him standing there beneath the tree.

      “Suit yourself.” Grady limped over to his horse, and by the time he made it over to the clearing, she’d already settled in and somehow unsaddled and hobbled her horse. The schoolmarm was currently building a ring of stones, presumably to make a fire.

      He stepped toward her and she stopped, looking up at him with those spectacles winking at him. “Are you planning on sharing my campsite?”

      “I’m planning on stopping for the night and resting my balls. You kicked them clear up to my throat, woman.” He ignored her disapproving cluck and hobbled his horse. As he uncinched the strap around the saddle, he kept an eye on his strange companion.

      She created a perfect circle from the rocks, placing them so tightly together no sparks could get under or over them. Then she set about gathering twigs, and he was so amused, Grady sat down to watch her. Like a little chipmunk, she used her skirt to gather as many twigs as she could find in the moonlight clearing. She sat down on her haunches and built a triangular-shaped bundle in the middle of the ring of stones.

      Grady wondered where the hell she’d learned how to make a fire. He’d never seen such a thing before. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

      Again, she ignored him and continued on her task. She reached into a travel bag and pulled out what he recognized as waterproof matches. He honestly expected her to be there for at least another thirty minutes before she gave up and asked for help.

      The fire flared to life, making his eyes sting at the sudden brightness.

      Hell and damnation. She