Free Poison by Sarah Pinborough Page B

something else. Her eyes widened as she spotted the elegant knife tucked into his belt.
    ‘That’s a royal blade,’ she said. Her voice was as rich and sweet as her curves. ‘Where did you get it, thief? And if you’re looking for riches,’ she raised her arms and one eyebrow, ‘as you can see, I’m not hiding any.’
    ‘That’s the second time a beautiful woman has called me a thief today and neither time has it been true.’
    ‘I don’t believe you.’ She snatched her shirt and glared at him while tugging it over her still damp skin. He could see from the saddle that she rode like a man, the horse firmly clamped between her thighs, and his eyes fell to examining the taut muscles. He wondered how it would feel to be gripped by them. ‘There’s only one person who could have given you that knife and that’s my…’ She fell silent as the truth dawned on her. ‘…my step-mother.’ She stood and stared at him for a moment as if willing him to deny it, but he said nothing. Eventually, she came towards him and searched his face. ‘ She sent you? To kill me?’ She looked down at the knife again. ‘But why? Why would she…? I thought… it was all a misunderstanding so why would she…?’ Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘She hates me,’ she whispered. ‘She really hates me.’
    ‘You can’t go back to the castle,’ the huntsman said. Heat rose under his collar. Women’s tears were something he didn’t understand. In fact women, beyond their physical aspects, were something he didn’t understand, and nothing he’d seen in the past few weeks had done anything to change that. ‘Go somewhere you can hide for a while. Until your father returns from his campaigns. Do you have people you can trust?’
    ‘It was all a lie. Everything she said. She was trying to kill me. Why would she want to kill me?’ She was lost in her own thoughts, and he dropped the rest of her clothes in order to grab her arms and shake her slightly. There was no time for this. Her skin was warm and supple.
    ‘Listen to me! Do you have people you can trust?’
    It took a moment for her to focus, but finally she nodded. Her tears were still falling and she sniffed hard. ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
    ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’ll take a deer’s heart back instead.’
    ‘She wants my heart?’ She laughed and then choked on the fresh tears. ‘My heart ?’
    ‘I’ll have to take your horse,’ the huntsman said. ‘It will make it more believable. She doesn’t trust me.’ This brought a fresh wave of tears and he wondered if she was listening to him at all, but she patted the horse’s neck and then pressed her face into it. Finally, she looked up at him. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
    ‘She owed me a life,’ he answered, simply. The queen, who claimed to know the huntsman’s code, had not realised how closely he lived by it. Regardless of the danger it might place him in, the stag’s wasted life demanded the balance was restored. The weeping princess threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, a sudden gesture he had no time to pull back from. Her body was warm through his clothes, her nipples pressing into him through his thin shirt. His arms folded around her, his hands on the taut curve of her back, fighting the urge to slip them down to the rise of her buttocks.
    ‘Thank you,’ she repeated. After a moment, she stiffened in his arms. ‘I can smell her on you,’ she said, pulling back slightly before pushing her face into his neck and breathing deeply. She looked up at him. ‘It’s her. You’ve been with her.’ Between her body pressed against his and her breath on his skin, the huntsman couldn’t stop himself responding. She could feel it, he was sure. What was going on today?
    ‘If you tell your father,’ he said, roughly, ‘it won’t just be her head he takes. It will be mine too. He tried to step back, but she kept her arms around him. They were strong and he could feel the lean muscles beneath her