Page 40 of Twice Tempted by a Rogue

“I want you.” She licked his cheek. “I want you.”

“Merry …” The word struck a chord in him. “Say you’ll marry me.” He knew she was reluctant, but he had this one advantage. She wanted him. Against all sense and reason and laws of nature, she wanted him. He’d intended to wait for marriage, but he’d settle for a betrothal. Hell. Right now, he’d settle for just about any syllable out of her mouth that rhymed with “yes.”

He drew his finger out of her sheath, then plunged it deeper. “Say yes. Say it now.”

Now. Please let it be now. And then he could take her, right here. Slide straight into that slick, inviting heat. And for once in his life, it might feel right.

“Say yes.” He added a second finger, pushed deeper still.

“I …” Panting, she let her head fall to his collarbone. “I can’t marry anyone. My father. The inn. The village … They all depend on me.”

“Let them depend on me.” He cinched his free arm about her waist. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll protect you, and your father, and the village. I’d never allow you to come to harm.”

“Rhys …”

He nudged back, forcing her to lift her head. The doubt was plain in her eyes. Why couldn’t she believe him? Perhaps it was too much to expect, after only a week—but damn. It still hurt that she didn’t.

And then, a horrible thought struck. Maybe she didn’t believe him because she knew it was a lie. Hehadallowed her, and her father, and the entire village to come to harm, long ago. He’d allowed them to suffer for the fourteen years since.

Could it be she knew something of the truth? He’d never spoken about that night, not to anyone.

With deep regret, he withdrew his fingers from her body and took her by the waist, setting her back on the boulder. She bit her quivering lip, and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm them. He tried, very hard, to ignore the tight knots of her nipples, thrown into stark relief by her wet gown.

“Merry …”

“I’m not looking!” The voice came from somewhere above.

Rhys started. “What? Who the—”

“Hullo!” the call came once more. “Hullo, down there! I’m up here. But don’t you worry, I won’t peek!”

“It’s Darryl,” she muttered through chattering teeth. “I’d know that voice anywhere.”

Sure enough, Rhys looked up to see Darryl Tewkes edging his way along the overhang, both hands pressed to cover his eyes.

“I’m not looking!” he repeated. “I know you may very well be indecent, so I’m not looking. I swear it.”

The youth took a step closer to the edge.

“Look!” Meredith and Rhys shouted as one.

Darryl froze.

“For God’s sake, Darryl,” she said. “Open your eyes. We’re clothed, we just had a …” She gave Rhys a wry smile. “A mishap.”

That was one way to put it.

“Oh. All right, then.” The youth uncovered his eyes. He glanced down at his feet, mere inches from the edge, and jumped back with a shout.

Rhys shook his head, chuckling. The fool would be twitching all day now.

Grasping a mossy stone for leverage, he hoisted himself out of the pool. Thanks to the cold water, his arousal had flagged rather quickly, all things considering. In fact, he suspected his bollocks might have drawn up into his ribcage.

He extended a hand to Meredith, and she took it. Pulling her out was no easy task, with the weight of her sodden petticoats and gown complicating matters, but they managed it together, and soon enough she stood dripping on solid ground. The sprigged muslin of her gown was all but translucent, hugging her every bump and curve.

Confronted with this sight, poor Darryl Tewkes just didn’t know what to do with himself. He raised a hand to his eyes again, then thought better of it and forced the hand back to his side. Eventually he settled for staring up at the sky.

“My coat’s up there on the outcropping,” Rhys called. “Give it here, will you?”

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