Page 54 of His Betrothed
Chapter 15
Roselyn stiffened at the sound of Thornton’s voice, yet the thought of verbally dueling with him challenged her. She turned around and found him sitting in her chair before the fire, watching her with a dark, knowing look.
What was wrong with her that even arguing with him made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt? It frightened her to feel like this—she wanted to be numbagain, to be calm, but Thornton was always waiting to outwit her.
“John is not my latest conquest,” she said, walking slowly until she stood before him, and he was forced to look up at her. “Francis insisted he walk me home.”
“Did Francis insist the boy invite himself inside?”
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded, tilting her head as she studied him. “Am I not even allowed friends?”
Hemet her gaze boldly. “Your flirting with that carpenter risks my safety.”
“I am not flirting with him—and how are you at risk? To reveal your presence would bring onlymepublic scorn. After all, you claim this estate is yours.”
What secrets could she lull from him? Anticipation made her shiver with excitement.
Thornton rose to his feet and leaned on his cane. “Don’t play the fool with me.We already had one Spanish visitor; we don’t need more.”
“Fine,” Roselyn said, stepping even nearer to stare up into his face. “Then do not question how I live my life.”
She could tell he wanted to speak—would she finally know the truth? She sensed an undercurrent of anger moving through him, and it couldn’t be because of their betrothal. He had already vowed to have her declared an adultererto break the contract between them.
With mounting astonishment, she realized that she wastryingto provoke him.
She was suddenly frightened of herself, of the wild Roselyn waiting deep inside her. She had worked too hard on her restraint to allow it all to be destroyed because of Spencer Thornton.
Breathing deeply, she took a step back. “How does the wound in your ribs feel?” she asked, todistract them both. “I noticed that you’ve stopped wearing the bandages.”
“’Tis fine,” he said shortly, leaning both hands on the cane.
Even injured, he so dominated her small cottage that it sent a flutter of nervous excitement through her.
“Have you been watching for signs of infection?”
“I told you I feel fine.”
Not breaking their shared gaze, she said, “Lift your shirt and allow me tolook.”
His mouth twisted into a smile within his beard. “Didn’t quite get all you wanted with the carpenter?”
“What?” she asked, feeling confused and suddenly naive.
He stared at her for another moment, then looked away. “Never mind. Here, see for yourself.”
Lifting up his shirt, Spencer watched the concentration that turned Roselyn’s wide-eyed look into a frown. Briskly she took his shouldersand turned him toward the fire, and he found himself holding his breath. Of course he was only concerned about whether he was healing well.
Then her cool hands touched his ribs, and the shock astonished him, sending an unwelcome flare of heat to his groin. When had she gained such power over him? Wasn’t it she who was supposed to be distracted byhispresence? Hismind was filled with her touch,her scent; he remembered her long wild hair that morning on the cliff, as the ocean breeze had played with it.
As she lowered his shirt, her palm brushed against his nipple. He could barely disguise the shudder that made him want to take her into his arms and teach her what touching a man could do.
She claimed herself a widow—wouldn’t she already know how to tease him? Yet when she looked upat him, her eyes held an innocence that seemed too real. He wanted to hold her face between his hands and make her confess all her secrets, so that the puzzles surrounding her no longer drew him.
Only nine days left—and strangely it didn’t seem enough.
When she moved away from him to clear his supper dishes from the table, Spencer leaned back against the door and let a smile play on his mouthas he boldly studied her. Her nervousness obviously grew with each clatter of the dishes, each distracted glance over her shoulder at him.
“Roselyn.”
