To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

“I meant, do you know how?”

“I am capable of boiling water, your grace,” she replied, her tone dry.

His mouth twitched. “I don’t doubt you are a woman of many talents,” he said as he sat in a wooden chair to remove his sodden boots. “But I wouldn’t expect you to know much about cooking.”

Across the room, Roslyn shrugged. “We were raised to privilege, but we had to learn any number of new skills once we lost our home and fortunes.” Glancing up, she regarded him across the room. “You seem surprised.”

He was indeed surprised. He couldn’t imagine his imperious mother deigning to make her own tea over an open fire, or grooming her own horses either.

But Roslyn seemed efficient as she filled the kettle and hung it in the hearth to boil.

Then remaining there, she held her chilled hands out before the struggling fire. Even over the snapping flames, Drew could hear her teeth chattering, and she was obviously shivering.

“You had best take off your wet gown,” he said casually as he pulled off his second boot and started on his stockings.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyebrow lifted in a perfect arch. “You cannot be serious.”

“Do you think I mean to ravish you? When you look as appealing as a bedraggled cat?”

She studied him silently, a worried frown creasing her brow.

Drew kept his expression bland. He had meant to set her at ease regarding his lascivious intentions, but even with her looking like the pitiful victim of a shipwreck, he still felt an uncommonly powerful attraction for her. And seeing her soaked and shivering brought out his protective instincts, along with other less-nurturing urges that were strong and powerfully male.

“There should be some blankets in the bedchamber. You can swathe yourself head to toe.”

“Thank you, but I will be fine as I am.”

“You would rather freeze?”

“I think perhaps I might.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be foolish. I have seen your charms more than once, angel. Taking off your gown would hardly be a worse offense.”

“Please, do not remind me. Last night was a mistake. It should never have happened.”

Drew couldn’t disagree more. Last night had certainly not been a mistake-and he meant to make Roslyn understand that.

“I am crushed,” he drawled. “My first proposal of marriage ever, and you fling it back in my face.”

“Because you weren’t at all serious.”

“I beg to differ. I was deadly serious.”

Roslyn’s short laugh held little amusement. “You were only trying to demonstrate your prowess. You are devastatingly adept at lovemaking, and you wanted to prove how easily you could seduce me. It meant nothing to you.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth,” he said in a low voice.

Instead of answering, she faced the fire again and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop shivering.

“Roslyn,” Drew said again, “go take off your gown before you catch your death. I promise I won’t ravish you.” At least not without invitation.

“No. Last night was bad enough.”

“You’re afraid Haviland will learn we are here together, but I won’t tell him, I promise.”

“Haviland, among others. It is highly improper for us to be here alone like this, even if we had little choice.”

But Drew’s attention was still focused on his rival. “You haven’t told me how your drive with him went this morning. Did you even go?”