Hiding Rose (Saved By Desire 5)

“Whose is it?” she whispered. “Will the owner mind us using it?”

Barnaby snorted. He didn’t care if anybody did object to them staying there for a while. Remaining on the horse was impossible now given how badly it was raining. They had to stop before the horse slid and injured itself and the hut was the only suitable place to stop for miles around.

“I don’t suppose so,” Barnaby answered her smoothly.

He almost groaned when the horse tripped and Rose’s hip nudged his groin. When it had first happened many miles ago it had been a distraction that had stymied him. Now, it was an irritation that was impossible to ignore and he was now as eager to get off this horse for a while as Rose was.

“You go on inside, I will see to the horse,” Barnaby urged her when they finally stopped outside of the hut.

Lifting his hands he helped her down but, when it came to releasing her he couldn’t. Everything within him was screaming at him to let her go, make her go inside and put some distance between them but the sight of the raindrops shimmering on her lashes, and the delicate curves of her womanly form sensationally outlined by her sodden and now transparent clothing, was too much temptation for a man pushed to the very edge of his self-control.

Rose watched rivulets of water trickle slowly down his face. He was so close that she had to tip her head back to look up at him but, rather than be intimidated by his size she felt incredibly protected. His presence was powerful and a little overwhelming.

“Rose,” he murmured.

Rose sighed. She didn’t object when his head dipped and he kissed her. Instead she sighed and leaned closer.

This kiss was different to the others. It was a kiss of reassurance; a joyous confirmation that they had survived, together. It was an affirmation of life. Held firmly against his strength she was helpless to refuse him anything, and returned his embrace with equal fervour which grew with each moment that passed.

Barnaby didn’t know what had come over him. He had been this reckless in his life, with his bachelorhood or his reputation. Rose was there to be protected not seduced whenever possible. But, she had looked so darned beautiful standing there, soaking wet, her hair hanging in damp ringlets about her face, the darkness shrouding her oval face in secrets that were the most seductive he had ever seen on a woman. He had felt compelled to just taste her, and he had. Now that he had, he wished he hadn’t because it had just complicated matters further, and they were difficult enough already. It was hard to let go, and even more difficult to take several steps backward. When he did,

he looked into her eyes and read the hazy desire she couldn’t hide shining back at him. It nearly unmanned him but he knew they had to have a bit of time apart.

“Go inside,” he murmured gently when she stood mutely staring at him. He didn’t wait to see if she would, he walked to the horse and picked up the reins.

Rose was reluctant to do as she was told and remained where she was until he led the horse into the lean-to and disappeared from sight. When she realised she was alone, she reluctantly made her way inside.

From the depths of the lean-to, Barnaby watched her walk slowly toward the hut. He tried to keep his gaze off her delectable curves it was damned near impossible when the rain had displayed everything God had given her in such wondrous glory.

“May the Lord have mercy on my soul,” Barnaby growled as he cast a dark glare at the skies. It was like being tempted to within an inch of the very boundaries of his endurance. He was positive now that there was someone somewhere in Heaven having a good laugh at him. They had placed everything they knew he would struggle to resist right under his nose and were waiting to see what he was going to do about it he just knew it. If he dared to touch, to savour, to taste, then he would have to pay the price, and that would inevitably lead to matrimony. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t bring himself to even contemplate the notion of being wed to anybody, not least to someone as hard-headed as Rose could be sometimes.

“Damn it all to Hell,” Barnaby snarled. Slapping the make-shift reins over a roof joist, he stomped toward the entrance and looked out across the fields. Rather than leave the lean-to, he took a moment to allow his ardour to cool. If he went into the hut in the state he was in, Chadwick wouldn’t be the only threat to Rose’s peace of mind. “Good God in Heaven, what has she done to me?” he whispered. He knew that the Lord wouldn’t provide him with any answers. To his utter disgust, he rather suspected that the answer now lay within the four walls of the hut he had stupidly brought her to. Unless he was prepared to spend the next several hours sharing this tiny space with the horse, he had to face going inside at some point. Besides, he was cold. If he wanted to avoid a chill he needed to get warm for a while.

“Face it like a man,” he growled as he reluctantly let himself out of the stall and stomped toward the hut. “Or run like a coward.”

Rose studied the small square space. It was furnished with nothing more than a single bed, a small fireplace, a solitary dresser, and a rickety looking table accompanied by two mismatched chairs. It wasn’t a palace by any man’s standards but the roof didn’t leak, and there was dry wood beside the fireplace. Hurrying toward it, she quickly lit the fire and remained beside it to savour the warmth for several moments while she studied the room for any sign of provisions. She was still trying to force herself to leave the warmth of the fire when Barnaby slammed into the room.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she demanded when she saw his dark scowl.

Barnaby slammed to a halt. The glare he levelled on her would have withered any lesser mortal. Rose merely stared back at him, completely oblivious to the scene of temptation she presented him. He wanted to tell her to put some clothes on, but she was fully dressed - although only just given how translucent her dress had become. Whipping his cloak off his shoulders he positively threw it toward her.

“Put that on, it will warm you up a bit faster,” he growled. With the fire roaring heartily, he turned his attention to searching the cupboard. It took far longer than was necessary given that he lingered with his back toward her for as long as he could. However, there came that moment when he had to turn around. “I will go and find us something to eat.”

“No. Stay,” Rose protested, tearing her gaze away from the rippling of the muscles in his back as he dug around inside the cupboard. “You can’t go back out there. It is pouring down with rain still. At least wait until it has stopped raining.”

But Barnaby was already shaking his head. “It is best I go now and get it over with. I am already wet.”

“But you have just bedded the horse down,” Rose argued. She hadn’t put the cloak on as he had suggested. Instead she draped it over the back of one of the chairs to dry before the fire.

“I won’t be long,” Barnaby growled, snatching it up and swinging it over his shoulders. Before she could protest, he slammed out of the hut.

Rose reached the window just in time to watch him stalk swiftly across the small field toward the village. If she didn’t know better, she would think that something had made him incredibly angry – or someone.

“Well, it can’t be me,” she whispered. “So what is wrong with you then?”

Aware that without asking him she wasn’t likely to get any answer, Rose turned away and went to put some more logs on the fire. Now that she was alone she decided to make full use of the heat. Throwing a cautious glance at the door, she hurried back to the window to make sure that he truly had gone and watched him vault over a wall half-way to the small group of houses in the distance. She suspected that he would be gone for a while and so quickly removed her sodden dress. With nothing protecting her modesty, she scoured the hut until she found an old, moth-eaten blanket. Wrapping it around her nudity, she began to wring out the ruined material of what had once been her best ball gown. Once it was as dry as she could get it she draped it over the chair which she positioned close to the fire. Stiff, sore, and more than a little tired, she huddled deeper into the voluminous folds of the blanket and lay down upon the narrow cot. Within seconds she was sound asleep.

Once in the village, Barnaby quickly purchased as much as he could carry. Stopping long enough to consume a small pie, he bundled the goods into his newly purchased pouch together with a dry change of clothing for both of them. With his arms laden, he slowly began to make his way back toward the hut. He hoped that by the time he returned she would have dried out and there would be less temptation on view. If not, then he was going to spend a long, cold rest period with a horse.