The Forgotten Gallo Bride

He ran his hand up and down her thigh as he studied her. ‘Then perhaps we’d better do something to fill in the time till morning.’

She shivered at the sensual promise in his low murmur.

‘You’re not sore?’ he asked as he shifted under her.

‘Not enough to care,’ she said recklessly. ‘You?’

‘It’s worth any amount of pain.’

She beamed at him. ‘Then kiss me,’ she asked shyly as she leaned down to him.

‘Here?’ He avoided her mouth to kiss her neck. ‘Or here?’ He scooted lower to catch the tip of her breast.

‘Everywhere.’

She lost all track of time as he proceeded to do exactly as she’d asked. Lost track of the number of times she begged him. Lost track of where she started and he began. Lost track of almost everything but how good she felt.

And then she lost the ability to move altogether. She was so relaxed she was limp. She couldn’t even roll to her side to face him.

‘Sleep now,’ he said quietly.

He kissed her. The softest touch to her temple. His passion had faded.

Her heart ached with the knowledge that it was over.

She kept her eyes closed because she didn’t want to see the finality in his expression. She just wanted to curl against him and pretend a little longer except she hadn’t the energy to move closer.

But then she heard the door snick. She snapped her eyes open and realised she was alone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘The good feeling doesn’t last.’

THE KITCHEN LOOKED as if it had been struck by a tornado.

She was going to have to scrape the dried biscuit dough off the end of that table with a jackhammer. She couldn’t bear to look at the other end where she’d lain like a sexual offering to the lord of the manor.

There was no sign of Tomas. Not for the entire time it took her to scrape and scrub the table clean and do all the dishes she’d left out from her midnight bakeathon.

But then the door leading to the garden opened.

‘What would you like for breakfast?’ she asked as he silently stalked in.

He looked wind-bitten and irritable and too many muscles were on show in those shorts and T-shirt and trainers.

‘I’ve already eaten.’ He didn’t even look at her. He didn’t need to. The glower on his face said it all.

He wanted to be beastly again? Fine.

‘I’ll prepare lunch and let you know when it is ready,’ she replied faux sweetly. ‘I won’t bother you again before then.’

He hesitated at the door and then swung back to face her. ‘What happened last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.’

‘That’s what you said about that kiss,’ she pointed out. Did he really think it could just be forgotten about?

Maybe it could. And maybe he regretted it completely.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t apologise. Didn’t stay another second.

For a moment she leaned against the bench, absorbing the stab in her heart. Then she pulled herself together. She wasn’t going to pine for his attention. Instead she pointlessly rubbed the silverware she’d found in the room to the left of the kitchen. It was so highly polished already she was making no difference, but she needed to do something.

Her anxiety was building, threatening to tear her apart.

She should tell him the truth. She had to tell him the truth. Especially now. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not without Jasper there to confirm it.

* * *

Tomas glared at the date and the name he’d written on the blank page in front of him, forcing himself to resist the almost overpowering urge to race back downstairs and apologise and pull her into his arms and do everything all over again. He couldn’t believe his idiocy. How could basic instinct and lust dominate his reason so quickly or so completely?

It was because of the proximity, right? The weather outside made everything inside seem more intimate. He’d been there and she’d been there and they’d been alone and she’d been willing. So very willing.

He frowned.

Why had she let him do that—why had she said yes to him so quickly, when she’d let no other man before? He hadn’t earned the gift of her virginity. She barely knew him.

It didn’t make sense.

His suspicions sharpened, arrowing in a direction he really didn’t like. She knew about his memory loss and then she’d let him do anything he wanted to.

Jasper’s words lingered with him—that recommendation to have some fun and ‘come back to life’...but Zara wasn’t one of Jasper’s ‘good time girls’. She was as sweet as she looked. And vulnerable.

Jasper had told him that too. He ripped the page from his journal and screwed it into a ball and tossed it into the fire.

He’d made a hash of everything. He didn’t want to lead her on. Didn’t want her thinking there could be anything more. Because there couldn’t be.

He was furious with himself. How could he have been that out of control? Was he that starved of sex? He’d barely thought about it these last few months. He’d been too busy working on his physical health, on his business, on reclaiming control of his life. Yet at the first opportunity he’d got—with the first woman who’d crossed his path in months—he’d pounced. He’d stripped her on the kitchen table and ravished her, barely giving her a chance to catch breath before beginning again. She’d come here as a temporary employee and he’d taken advantage of her in every way possible.

It had been horrendous behaviour.

And what would she be expecting from him now?

He didn’t have anything to offer her or any woman. He’d kept his distance deliberately to protect his reputation, his business. The truth about his injury could never become public knowledge. But it seemed he needed to protect a woman from himself too—from his new rabid, uncontrollable lustiness.

He’d failed Zara as her employer. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He’d take control of his sex drive and leave her alone. It was only a few days and she’d be gone.

He ignored the raging tension in his body at the thought of denial. He wasn’t letting lust overrule him—not when he’d overcome so much else.

He clamped his teeth together to stop himself from speaking to her when she brought up a tray with his lunch. His jaw ached with the effort.

A shadow entered her beautiful blue-green eyes as she placed the tray before him.

He ignored it—her, the tray, his own desires. He had to. He had to re-establish distance—coolness—between them.

She got to the doorway before she turned.

‘You know, I get that last night was a one-time-only thing and that you don’t want any more than that,’ she said softly, only the faintest shake to her voice. ‘So you don’t need to be this rude to me. I’m not hanging around for more. You’re not going to break my heart or anything. But you could still be polite.’

He stared at her, stunned at her annoyance. Annoyed at himself because she was right. He had treated her exactly as he’d once vowed never to treat any woman. He’d acted as if he’d used her. No woman deserved that. ‘I apologise,’ he said formally. ‘I didn’t intend to be rude.’

He glared after her as she stalked away, her back ramrod straight and her chin held high.

He had been a jerk. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want anything more from him—except he didn’t think that was quite true. Those sea-green eyes couldn’t hide much—certainly not the way they deepened in colour when she looked at him.

He sighed. He’d been horrible. She had been a virgin, and he hadn’t even bothered to stay and cuddle her to sleep after he’d finally been spent.

He was appalled with himself. Most of all because he still wanted more. He just didn’t understand how he’d lost control of his desires in this way.

* * *

Zara pressed a hand to her chest as she ran lightly down the stairs, her legs wobbly from literally standing up to him. When really, she ha

d nothing to stand on when she’d been the one keeping information from him.

But it was meaningless information really. What was one day? It hadn’t meant anything to him. Nor had last night. And that was okay.

She bent over her work again. A long while later she heard him stomping down the stairs. She concentrated extra hard on the piece she was polishing.

‘What are you doing?’ he growled at her.

‘My job, what do you think?’

‘You barely got any sleep last night—’

‘So? That’s not stopping you from working.’

‘That’s different.’

Oh, that got her riled. ‘How so?’

‘Mine isn’t physical work,’ he said gruffly.

‘This isn’t exactly that hard.’

‘But—’

‘Don’t try to stop me. What happened last night hasn’t changed anything,’ she argued. ‘It’s just a job. I’m being paid to do this job. If I don’t do the job then what am I being paid for?’

He paused. An almost stricken look entered his eyes.

‘Exactly.’ She smiled sharply up at him in victory. ‘I’m doing the cooking and the cleaning, Tomas, and you’re not stopping me.’

‘Fine.’ A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Just don’t overdo it.’

‘I pride myself on doing the best I can, just as you do.’ She shook her head. ‘Please don’t patronise me.’