Page 50 of Almost a Bride
She nodded and fumbled behind her for the latch, unable to take her eyes off him. When the door swung open, she entered and closed it without looking at him again.
In the warm darkness she leaned her forehead against the wooden door and closed her eyes. She had known of John’s interest in her, of course, but it was still a surprise to find him beginning a sort of courtship.
John’s presence was soothing and pleasant. He didn’t make her heart feel as if it would explode from her chest; he didn’t make her thoughts lose focus. If there was anyone from whom she could protect her feelings, who wouldn’t endanger her with another wild passion, it would be John.
Thornton’s sarcastic voice dissolved her thoughts. “Out for a pleasant walk with your latest conquest?”
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 numb again, 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?”
He met 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 only me public 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 adulterer to break the contract between them.
With mounting astonishment, she realized that she was trying to 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, hoping to distract 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 to look.”
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 shoulders and 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? His mind 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.
