Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) by Michelle Willingham

she felt the hard length of his arousal, and she knew he meant what he’d said.
    “But you won’t,” she reminded him. “Because you promised to keep me safe.”
    “I ne’er promised no’ to tempt you, lass.”
    Her lips were bruised from his lips, but he’d made her feel alive. “You think to compromise me in truth, don’t you? Everyone will believe it anyway.” Frowning, she added, “That isn’t the woman I want to be.”
    “I asked you to be a wife, no’ a mistress,” he reminded her.
    She knew that. But even so, she suspected that Cain Sinclair would not relent in his pursuit. And despite her protests, he’d awakened a part of her that was hungry to learn more.
    God help them both.

Chapter Five
    T hey reached a village when it was nearly nightfall. There was no inn, but Cain arranged for them to stay in a farmer’s barn. Margaret wasn’t at all eager to sleep amid the straw and animals, but the only alternative was to sleep outside.
    It was freezing cold at night, even wearing Cain’s coat. She wished that she’d had the foresight to bring a spencer or a cloak to cover her dress. Not only to push back the cold, but also to avoid the stares she’d received from the villagers. They’d eyed her as if she were mad. Perhaps she was, to make such a journey in a torn ball gown.
    But Cain had suffered more. After the long distance they’d traveled, his mouth had been set in a tight line when they’d stopped. If they were to continue, he needed something to ease the wounds on his back.
    For that reason, she’d sought the help of an apothecary to look at his burns. She’d slipped out when he wasn’t looking and asked a few of the villagers before she found the right man. The apothecary was younger than she’d expected, nearly her age, and she wondered if he would know how to treat Cain’s wounds.
    “I’ve a salve that will ease the burns,” the man had answered. He eyed her torn ball gown. “If you’ve a means of paying for the medicine.”
    Margaret nodded. “I have, yes.” She twisted the ring on her finger. “We won’t be staying long. We actually came in search of my sister Amelia, who might have come through this village a few weeks ago.” She described the young woman to the apothecary. “Did you happen to see anyone who looks like her?”
    He shook his head. “The pair of you are the first visitors we’ve seen in weeks. Though I must say, you’re not like the travelers we normally see. A few shepherds, some peddlers. Not ladies.”
    Her mood dimmed. If Amelia had not come this way, then likely Lord Lisford had taken the main roads. This impulsive journey had been for nothing at all. It was what she’d suspected, but she’d needed to ask. “Bring the salve with you, and I’ll take you to my husband.”
    She led him back to the barn, but before she could enter, Sinclair was already outside searching for her. There was immediate relief on his face when he saw her, and she could tell he was angry that she’d left.
    “What’s he doing here?” Sinclair demanded, as soon as she walked forward with the man.
    “This is Mr. Snow, the village apothecary,” Margaret explained. “He’s here to look at your back.”
    “My back is fine,” he said. “ ’Twill heal well enough.”
    Which was a lie. She knew how badly he was hurting. “Take off your shirt,” Margaret demanded. To the apothecary, she apologized, “I fear my husband is in a great deal of pain. We survived a fire on our journey here, but his burns have not healed well.”
    Cain moved toward her, using his height as intimidation. She tilted her neck back to meet his iron stare. “I don’t need your help, wife .”
    Margaret smiled at the apothecary. “Isn’t it just like a man, not to know when he needs help?”
    Cain’s expression held frustration, and she didn’t doubt he wanted to rage at her for embarrassing him like this. His blue eyes darkened like gunmetal, and he crossed his arms in front of his