Hiding Rose (Saved By Desire 5)

“Let go of me,” she bit out through clenched teeth.

Barnaby mentally swore. He knew that if he stepped away from her she would do exactly the opposite to what he had just told her. With little other choice, he removed his hand from her mouth completely and replaced it with his lips.

Rose’s world ground to a shattering halt. Nothing made sense as she stood within the warmth of his embrace and allowed him the liberty of plundering her lips with his. She should stop him. Of course she should. If only she could get her wayward mind to co-operate then at the first available opportunity she would command him to stop kissing her so distractedly this very instant.

Or, maybe, in a moment or two.

This was the first time in her life she had ever been kissed. It was - curious. It was strange in a warm and fuzzy kind of way. Delightful even, and terribly risqué given she had no idea who this man was. It was intriguing in a mesmerising way that made her want more at the same time that every survival instinct she had ever possessed was screaming at her to stop him now before things went too far. She knew she should slap his face and chastise him for taking liberties. She knew she should put some distance between them and seek refuge in the crowd occupying the ballroom. But rather than do any of those things, Rose copied the movements of his lips. She didn’t know this man. She need not ever see him again after this. What was there to lose?

Nevertheless, she put her hands on his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him stepping too close but it was a token protest at best given that there was already not a breath of air between them. Each time he took a breath she felt his chest press tantalisingly against her. The unusual sensation seemed to draw her deeper into his embrace and left her unable to deny him.

Barnaby groaned when he tasted strawberries and sweetness that he could only describe as tempting. He forced

himself to ignore what he was doing and focus on the fact that his unprotected back was now facing a gunman, and an angry gunman at that. He could only hope that Chadwick would consider them nothing more than a courting couple enjoying the delights of the darkness of the balcony. If the man chose to take a pot-shot at them because they had been in the vicinity at the time of the murders then there was nothing Barnaby could do, except protect the woman in his arms with his life.

Well, if you are going to die anywhere it may as well be in a loving woman’s embrace, Barnaby thought ruefully as his lips slid sensuously against the woman’s.

When everything fell silent in the yard, Barnaby waited for several minutes and then began to contemplate how to deal with his next problem. How on earth he was going to stop kissing such sweet temptation and leave the balcony to go after Chadwick?

CHAPTER TWO

This has to stop, Barnaby thought as he tried to ease back only for the woman to slide her fingers into his hair and hold him steady. Groaning at the temerity of the woman he had assumed was an innocent, he focused on what she was doing.

At first, there was something tentative about the way she returned his kisses. It was almost like she had never been kissed before but, once her initial surprise had faded, she had started to enjoy herself. Too much as it turned out because now she had thrown herself into the situation she seemed startlingly reluctant to stop. He had only been trying to cover Chadwick’s view of her pale dress shining like a beacon in the light. The only thing he had at hand was himself but, to get close to her and force her to allow him near without screaming the place down meant he had to kiss her.

Now what? He thought, aware that Chadwick was getting further and further away with each minute Barnaby lingered on the balcony. It took more determination than he thought he would ever need to eventually break off the kiss and set her away from him.

Rose gasped, her lips throbbing. She stared up at him, completely lost for words. When she opened her mouth to speak whatever she had intended to say, and she had no idea what she had wanted to tell him, suddenly disappeared. Her mind was too sluggish to comprehend anything other than the fact that he was breathtakingly handsome. Tall, dark haired, intriguing eyes that were almost hypnotic, especially this close, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome stranger, and he had just kissed her. Her. Rose Higginbotham, right there and then on the balcony.

Her heart thundered at the same time that she struggled to comprehend the last several moments. It felt as though she had stepped into some surreal dream - or nightmare where nothing made sense.

“Don’t scream, and don’t move, and he won’t see you,” the stranger growled darkly. “If you do anything stupid, he will shoot us both.”

In that heartbeat, the haze of desire clouding Rose’s thoughts evaporated and was brutally replaced with the stark reality of her situation. The wonderfully warming sensations she had experienced just a few seconds ago might have been a figment of her imagination now. She touched her lips with tentative fingers. They were still tingling so she couldn’t have imagined it. The man had truly stepped out of nowhere, appeared right before her, and kissed her soundly as though his very life depended on it. Of course, in a warped way it did, and that realisation stole all the preciousness out of the occasion of her first true kiss.

Glaring at him, Rose made no attempt to keep her voice down when she demanded: “What do you think you are doing?”

“Shut up,” Barnaby growled.

“I beg your-”

Whatever else she was going to say was swiftly silenced by the return of his lips. This time she was determined not to be thwarted so easily and placed her hands firmly on his chest. However, once her chilled fingers touched the hard, warm muscles beneath the fine material of his shirt, everything she had intended to do and say was completely forgotten again. Rather than push that solid wall of masculine chest, her fingers clung to the material, holding him in place while she succumbed to his embrace once more.

Damn it, does she have to give in every time? Barnaby thought.

He mentally cursed his own stupidity. To do this once was foolish enough, especially given that he now suspected that she had never had a suitor in her life before. To kiss her for a second time with a ballroom full of people just a few steps away was nothing short of suicide; suicide to his masculinity and his single life of bachelorhood that is. There was no early possibility he was going to give that up, especially for a woman no matter how beautiful she was. However, keeping some distance between them was proving impossible.

As he changed the angle of the kiss and prepared to step back, he felt her instinctive hesitation.

Good Lord, what’s wrong with the men in this area? Barnaby mused.

It was clear that she had hardly ever been kissed before - if ever. It made him contemplate what her likely response would be when he finally did manage to put some distance between them. Would she be an outraged virgin? Or a simpering maiden expecting more than he could offer? Or, worse, a screeching banshee demanding his was horse-whipped for taking liberties?

Lifting his head abruptly, he glared down at her in warning.

“Keep your sodding voice down,” he commanded. He lifted a single finger and placed it firmly over her lips when she opened her mouth to speak. “Do you want to be his third victim?”

Rose gazed up at him with wide eyes. She slowly shook her head from side to side.