“Well, I might survive until morning,” he muttered.
He knocked on the door and stood back to wait.
“I am not going,” Jess declared as she watched Ben close the back door and remove his jacket. “They came to see you the last time they called. You answer it.”
She slapped the bread onto the table and glared at him, then pointedly turned her back. She sensed Ben’s hesitation but, when he tried to cajole her into going, she merely glared at him and turned back to stirring the pot of soup.
When the knocking sounded again, Ben eventually had to concede defeat and went to answer it himself.
The low rumble of voices made Jess curious. It wasn’t Lloyd back for another visit after all. Curious, she moved closer to the door so she could listen to what they were saying only to jump back in alarm when Ben pushed it open.
“The gentleman here wants to know if we have room for him,” Ben reported cautiously.
Jessica glanced at her brother, but it was a brief flicker of acknowledgement at best. The full focus of her attention remained on the stranger standing just a few feet behind him.
Her ability to think while pinned beneath those wonderful dark eyes vanished completely. The kitchen they were standing in; indeed the entire world around them; faded into insignificance. She fell into the depths of the most incredible brown eyes she had ever seen. Several shades darker than honey, they reminded her of whisky. The deep hues of gold and brown mesmerised her to the point that she felt drawn in by them. She couldn’t move. Even breathing was difficult.
“Jess?”
She jumped at the sound of her name and frowned at Ben. It took her a moment to recall what he had just said.
“Erm. I don’t think so,” she replied hesitantly. She desperately tried to ignore the small, inner voice screaming; ‘yes, yes, yes, take me, take anything.’
“We have one room,” Ben reminded her pointedly.
“That’s not ready yet.”
“I don’t mind, so long as the roof doesn’t leak,” Marcus drawled only half-joking.
He was so tired that he didn’t care if it did leak. As long as he didn’t have to sleep with a bucket on his chest, he could cope. Now that he had seen the delightful landlady, he suspected he would do whatever she asked of him.
She is stunning he mused as he studied her from the top of her head to the tip of her dainty feet.
Jess felt that slow purusal like a brand. In contrast to the magistrate’s lechery, this stranger’s apparent interest was enticing. She had never felt anything like this before. The slow sweep of his gaze as it slid over her elicited a shudder that seemed to originate from her very soul. It left a blazing trail of desire behind that demanded nothing less than complete and total satisfaction.
“Well, I am not sure. The room isn’t ready, you see?” Jessica said doubtfully, unsure if it was wise to let this man into the house.
In a few short moments, he had stolen her senses.
What would he be capable of if he stayed for a week? What else would he help himself to if he became a resident? Jess closed that thought out.
“I don’t mind waiting until the room is ready,” Marcus assured her.
“I am sure the tavern in the village would be able to provide you with accommodation for a few days,” Jessica announced helpfully.
Inwardly, she was relieved that he wasn’t going to be stopping under her roof after all. It was so very difficult to think while he was around she wasn’t sure she could stand it.
“They are already full,” Marcus countered, trying hard not to smile.
Unless he was mistaken, she was trying to get rid of him. He held out a hand.
“Marcus Cauldwell.” His eyes almost dared her to try to avoid having to touch him.
Jess’ cheeks turned pink, but she took his hand. “Jessica Parkinson. This man here is my brother, Ben.”
“Miss Parkinson. Ben,” Marcus murmured.
To think that someone as beautiful as her would risk a future behind bars made him want to take her by the shoulders and shake some common sense into her. Still, if they were thieves he couldn’t allow his personal interest to get in the way.