Hiding Rose (Saved By Desire 5)

The sight that greeted him when he entered the hut altered the course of everything. Closing the door quietly behind him, Barnaby slid the bolt home before he closed the shutters. Determined to keep his eyes off her, he studied her still dripping dress with a sigh as he placed his bags on the table. Inevitably, his gaze was drawn to her. Before he knew it he had taken several steps toward the bed.

“Damn it,” he whispered, forcing himself to stop and focus on unpacking his purchases.

“You are back,” Rose murmured sleepily when she sensed she was no longer alone. It didn’t occur to her to be frightened. The residual effects of slumber rendered her mind fuddled, and she temporarily forgot his earlier anger as she moved to sit on the edge of the cot.

“I don’t know what happened. I was just going to rest for a while,” she murmured apologetically.

“We need to eat,” he muttered huskily as he slammed a pie onto the table.

Rose shoved her hair out of her eyes with one hand while the other protected her modesty by holding the edges of the blanket together.

“You are soaked,” she said needlessly. She eyed the steady pool of water dripping onto the floor at his feet in dismay.

“It’s raining outside still,” he snapped. For the first time in his life he felt gauche and awkward.

Rose’s stomach rumbled loudly when the delicious scent of pie filtered across the room. Curious to see what he had bought she stood and tried to walk to the table only to find her feet tangled up in the trailing ends of the blanket. Tugging them out of the way while protecting her modesty proved virtually impossible though, and after several futile attempts to free her feet from the rough confines of the coarse material, Rose gave up.

“Jesus,” Barnaby growled as he watched her struggle to contain her ample bosom which threatened to overspill the edge of the blanket. Stalking toward her he crouched down and untangled her feet before he returned to the table. “Secure that and come and get something to eat.”

Rose studied the rigid set of his shoulders an

d wondered what she had done to irk him so. He was angry about something but for the life of her she couldn’t understand what.

“Did you see anybody in the village?” she asked.

“I saw lots of people,” Barnaby snapped. “It is the middle of the morning.”

“I was just asking.”

The hurt in her voice made him look at her. He sighed, realising then just how completely unfair he was being to her. It wasn’t right that he should take his frustration out on her because she had no idea what temptation she put before him.

“I am sorry. I am just tired and hungry, that’s all,” he muttered as he slapped two battered tin plates onto the table and sat down. Helping himself to a selection of the foods on offer he began to eat and kept his gaze his gaze locked on his meal rather than her.

Everything was fine, for a few seconds at least - until Rose sat down. When he took one look at her hair tumbling wildly about her bare shoulders, and the pale flash of deliciously curved thigh protruding from the blanket, his body surged to life. He knew then that he was fighting an already lost battle.

Rose poked uninterestedly at the food before her. She was hungry but then wasn’t. Her appetite had vanished beneath the weight of the worry clouding her thoughts now that she sensed his bad temper. The last thing she wanted was to have to battle with him for the rest of the journey. It made her feel all alone in the world more than anything else. It wasn’t until then that she realised just how much she relied upon him, and it wasn’t just to keep them both alive and out of Chadwick’s clutches. Having Barnaby to talk to made her feel considerably calmer and about the dangers they faced. His presence in her life gave her the strength to face an entirely new future. He was a companion; a friend; a confidant.

Of course he is. Just keep telling yourself that he is only a companion and one day you might believe it, a small voice chided her.

She was fooling herself. She had known the man for less than a day yet it already felt like she had known him all of her life. It was shocking just how hurt she was at the mere thought of being at odds with him, especially after all they had shared. Battling tears, Rose looked across the table.

Their eyes met. Barnaby’s knife dropped unnoticed onto the plate, the heavy clatter not heard by either of them. The atmosphere thickened as the tension grew until it became almost palpable. Rose had never noticed just how startlingly sensual his gaze could truly be. That particular shade of blue tinged with grey was hypnotic and seemed to draw her in.

“Rose,” he growled in warning. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Rose’s stomach flipped over, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Like what?” she whispered.

Determined to thwart the adoration in the look she levelled on him, Barnaby launched out of his chair. Ignoring its heavy clatter behind him as it toppled over he leant over the table, grabbed her roughly by her bared shoulders and hauled her upright at the same time that he slammed his lips onto hers. Hauling her tightly against him wasn’t enough because she returned the caress of his mouth with equal fervour. It was not the response he had been looking for. His intention had been to worry her into not wanting to tempt things she wasn’t able to cope with.

She is untried God damn it, she shouldn’t be looking at me like that, he thought as he hauled her roughly around the table and into his arms. If he scared her a little, and made her warier around him then that would stop the loving looks and gentle concern, and help him put some much needed emotional distance between them, wouldn’t it? He certainly hoped so because he was taking a gamble right now. If his scare tactics didn’t work, he was well and truly sunk.

Rose clung to him and allowed him to plunder. She made no protest when his kiss became more forceful and deeper, and moaned low in her throat when her body was suffused with molten warmth.

He shifted and allowed her to feel the very physical evidence of his desire.

Intrigued, she pressed closer, unsure what she was asking for. Some instinct she had never known she possessed knew that whatever it was that raged inside her, only Barnaby could ease it. Unmindful of her nakedness she released her hold on the blanket and held on to him instead.

Barnaby held her tighter to try to prevent the downward slide of the blanket when he felt her hand slide seductively across his shoulders. Clamping the material firmly in place by sliding one arm across her back he felt it tug downward anyway. Groaning at the feel of her bare flesh beneath his fingertips he swept her off her feet and stalked across the room.