the slight contact.
Keep calm. He was just a man. He put his breeches on one leg at a time like any other. And took them off the same way. She squeezed her eyes shut to block the tantalizing image. Why did this one man punch through every wall she erected when most never even scratched the surface?
At her door, she paused hand on the knob. Did she invite him in? Every sense yearned for his touch.
He leaned against the jamb, his tall, muscled frame almost blocking her escape. His face only inches away, the invitation in his eyes almost irresistible. He leaned forward, and without her knowing how it had happened, their lips met in a kiss that vibrated through her insides and left her wanting more.
She reached a hand up to bring him closer. But instead of the short, braided queue, she brushed thick, close-cropped hair. Fashionable. Sophisticated. Everything she wasn’t. Even if fate hadn’t warned her of what it meant to give her heart to this man, their future was an impossibility. Wealth and witchcraft didn’t mix.
She backed away, drawing a breath that was almost a sob. She knew she ought to ignore her body’s reactions and bring Rafe to her bed. Get this devil’s bargain over with as fast as possible. But she needed time to prepare. He was far too close already. “I can’t do this. Not tonight. I’m…I’m over-tired, and it’s late.”
His eyes held a glazed and uncertain look. They stood heart to heart, his body thrumming with unspent energy. She felt it running hot beneath her own skin.
“Are you ill?” Rafe struggled.
That was an excuse that would do. She grasped at it. “Aye. I’m not feeling myself.” Her voice shook. He was near. So near. “A night’s rest after such a day will have me back to rights.”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, confusion marring his features. “We’ll leave after breakfast. I’ll come for you—”
But she’d already closed the door.
“Come with me.”
Instead of turning toward the inn’s yard where the coach awaited, Rafe took Gwenyth’s hand, steering her in the opposite direction.
“And where do you think you’re taking me?” she asked, laughter in her eyes.
He threw her a rakish smile. “Honestly? No clue. But one full day wedged into that coach and I’m ready to explode.” He shuddered. “I feel closed in. I can’t breathe.”
She gave him a long, assessing look. “The scars of your imprisonment run deep.”
He pulled away, his gaze sharp as a spear point. What did she see? A time he wanted only to forget. A part of him he’d locked away. “Leave it alone,” he said.
She nodded solemnly. “’Twas a guess, nothing more.” She placed a tentative hand on his forearm, her voice low. “I’ll not steal your memories, Rafe.”
And he knew she spoke the truth. He relaxed. He was safe. Gwenyth wouldn’t pry where she wasn’t wanted. Which made her pledge to find him a wife all the more special. Her desire for this child must be extraordinary. What would it be like to have her want him with the same intensity? To know that kind of all-encompassing love?
He shook off his thoughts. Took her arm. “You say you’ve never been this far from home. Let’s explore. My family’s waited twelve years to see me. One more day can’t hurt.”
Exeter’s High Street was crowded. Shoppers and hawkers vied for space upon the narrow sidewalks, and the street itself bustled with drays and wagons, coaches and carts. After the quiet of Kerrow’s narrow lanes and wooded tracks, the city felt loud and stifling.
But Gwenyth’s enthusiasm soon infected him. Her smiles and friendly nods at passersby, her stifled giggles upon seeing the starched and ridiculous macaronis in their over-high shirt points and skin-tight pantaloons. The warmth in her gaze as she watched a mother and child seated together on a park bench.
They passed into North Street and strolled from window to window, pausing now and then to admire or inspect. “It’s
Keep calm. He was just a man. He put his breeches on one leg at a time like any other. And took them off the same way. She squeezed her eyes shut to block the tantalizing image. Why did this one man punch through every wall she erected when most never even scratched the surface?
At her door, she paused hand on the knob. Did she invite him in? Every sense yearned for his touch.
He leaned against the jamb, his tall, muscled frame almost blocking her escape. His face only inches away, the invitation in his eyes almost irresistible. He leaned forward, and without her knowing how it had happened, their lips met in a kiss that vibrated through her insides and left her wanting more.
She reached a hand up to bring him closer. But instead of the short, braided queue, she brushed thick, close-cropped hair. Fashionable. Sophisticated. Everything she wasn’t. Even if fate hadn’t warned her of what it meant to give her heart to this man, their future was an impossibility. Wealth and witchcraft didn’t mix.
She backed away, drawing a breath that was almost a sob. She knew she ought to ignore her body’s reactions and bring Rafe to her bed. Get this devil’s bargain over with as fast as possible. But she needed time to prepare. He was far too close already. “I can’t do this. Not tonight. I’m…I’m over-tired, and it’s late.”
His eyes held a glazed and uncertain look. They stood heart to heart, his body thrumming with unspent energy. She felt it running hot beneath her own skin.
“Are you ill?” Rafe struggled.
That was an excuse that would do. She grasped at it. “Aye. I’m not feeling myself.” Her voice shook. He was near. So near. “A night’s rest after such a day will have me back to rights.”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, confusion marring his features. “We’ll leave after breakfast. I’ll come for you—”
But she’d already closed the door.
“Come with me.”
Instead of turning toward the inn’s yard where the coach awaited, Rafe took Gwenyth’s hand, steering her in the opposite direction.
“And where do you think you’re taking me?” she asked, laughter in her eyes.
He threw her a rakish smile. “Honestly? No clue. But one full day wedged into that coach and I’m ready to explode.” He shuddered. “I feel closed in. I can’t breathe.”
She gave him a long, assessing look. “The scars of your imprisonment run deep.”
He pulled away, his gaze sharp as a spear point. What did she see? A time he wanted only to forget. A part of him he’d locked away. “Leave it alone,” he said.
She nodded solemnly. “’Twas a guess, nothing more.” She placed a tentative hand on his forearm, her voice low. “I’ll not steal your memories, Rafe.”
And he knew she spoke the truth. He relaxed. He was safe. Gwenyth wouldn’t pry where she wasn’t wanted. Which made her pledge to find him a wife all the more special. Her desire for this child must be extraordinary. What would it be like to have her want him with the same intensity? To know that kind of all-encompassing love?
He shook off his thoughts. Took her arm. “You say you’ve never been this far from home. Let’s explore. My family’s waited twelve years to see me. One more day can’t hurt.”
Exeter’s High Street was crowded. Shoppers and hawkers vied for space upon the narrow sidewalks, and the street itself bustled with drays and wagons, coaches and carts. After the quiet of Kerrow’s narrow lanes and wooded tracks, the city felt loud and stifling.
But Gwenyth’s enthusiasm soon infected him. Her smiles and friendly nods at passersby, her stifled giggles upon seeing the starched and ridiculous macaronis in their over-high shirt points and skin-tight pantaloons. The warmth in her gaze as she watched a mother and child seated together on a park bench.
They passed into North Street and strolled from window to window, pausing now and then to admire or inspect. “It’s
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