The Wedding Dress. Kimberly Cates

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СКАЧАТЬ he was hard as a rock, but her focus was locked on his chest. It had been a long time since a woman had looked at him like that. An even longer one since a feminine touch had wreaked such havoc on his self-control.

      What would she do if he closed the space between them and eased her down onto his bed? What would she do if he covered all that feminine softness with everything that was hard and male in him? If he took her mouth in a kiss that would make them both forget to breathe? Forget everything but the primitive need to…

      Snib’s right. You are daft, man! She’d probably knee you in the groin, and you’d deserve it! Things are complicated enough, having her here. Sex would only…

      Feel bloody damn wonderful while Jared was in the middle of it. Trouble was, he and Emma would have to work together for the next six weeks feeling uncomfortable around each other. That is, if the lady let him…and why the devil would she? A woman like her. With a man like him? He might as well try to mate that miserable excuse of a terrier with Cruft’s best-in-show.

      So say something, dammit, Jared told himself. Talk about something completely asexual. Like blood.

      “Shouldn’t you have fainted sometime in the past hour?” He hoped she’d ignore the huskiness in his voice. “You know. That whole blood phobia.”

      

      “IT WAS ALL PART of the act.” She seemed as relieved as he was to find something to talk about. “Considering my family, I’d spend half my life out cold if I were that squeamish. They don’t call us the fighting McDaniels back in Whitewater for nothing.”

      He smiled, a real smile this time. Emma’s gaze dipped, drawn to the flash of white. Her breasts tingled, a melting sensation in places too dangerous to allow. He looked…feverish. He couldn’t be getting an infection this soon, but his eyes…they burned green, hot…intense.

      Emma’s mouth went dry. Every bit of small talk she’d ever used in conversation flew right out of her head. Lord. She was staring at him like a ninny. She patted the wound on his chest dry, busied herself by taping a gauze pad on the injury.

      “You miss them a lot, don’t you?”

      Emma heard Jared’s breath hitch as the edge of her little finger skimmed his nipple.

      “Miss who?”

      “Your family.”

      Family…That’s what she was talking about. “You’d think I’d get used to it—being gone so much. But like Mom says, they’ll always be there to come home to.”

      “If you like I could send the letters you wrote out with the rest of the post.”

      Emma froze, a strip of tape snarling around her fingers. “My letters?” Her stomach knotted.

      Guilt suffused Jared’s rugged features. “I came up to the tower, figuring you were still asleep. You were gone.”

      “That must have taken one whole glance at the bed to figure out.”

      “I thought you might have hitchhiked or—”

      “Hitchhiked?” Emma’s temples throbbed. “You think I’m out of my mind?”

      “Or that you’d gone someplace you weren’t supposed to,” he finished, as if he hadn’t heard her. His eyes narrowed. “I was right about that much, wasn’t I? I went to look out the window, and…well, you left the thing out in front of God and everybody.”

      “I wanted to make sure the ink was dry,” Emma said with measured fury. “And you forgot to pack any medieval envelopes in the chest. It sure wasn’t an invitation for you to read them.”

      She pressed her hand to her stomach, feeling strangely violated as she imagined the cynical Jared Butler reading through the private, precious thoughts meant only for loving eyes. Oh, God. What had she written? She’d been trying so hard not to cry that she could hardly remember. But Jared couldn’t know that, could he? Then why was he looking at her with—damn, a hint of…pity?

      “How would you feel if I read your private letters to your family?” Emma confronted him, hands on hips.

      “That will never happen.”

      “I suppose your work is too important for you to be bothered to drop your parents a few lines?”

      Jared compressed his lips for a moment. “I don’t have any family.”

      Emma stared at him. His eyes were hooded, dark with secrets. “But your father…you said…”

      “He’s dead. They all are.”

      Emma’s heart clenched, her fury at Jared’s intrusion paling in comparison to her runaway imagination. Picturing just how bleak her own life would be if God obliterated everybody she loved.

      Jared held up his gauze-wrapped hand in surrender. “I was wrong to read the letters. I admit it. But don’t you think being chewed up in a dogfight is penance enough?”

      “Not unless I was the one who got to bite you.” She hated the fact that he had a point. He might have read her letters, but he’d also saved Captain.

      “What if we make a deal, you and me?” Jared offered. “I’ll not invade your privacy again and you’ll stay on the right side of the chain barricade at the rear of the castle. No more prowling around where you don’t belong.”

      He looked so damned reasonable, those green eyes fixed on hers as he waited for her answer. But this was one time reasonable wouldn’t work any more than indulging his temper had.

      One of Hope’s favorite phrases rose in her mind: You’re not the boss of me. Okay, maybe it worked better coming from an eight-year-old, but Emma could at least hold on to the gist of the words.

      She walked over to the crate, lifting it up to carry back to the tower room. “I’ll just get my dog out of your way now.”

      “Hold on. I didn’t say you could keep it. A dog on a dig site is a rotten idea.”

      “He won’t go near your precious dig site. He’ll be with me. After all, they had dogs in medieval times, didn’t they?”

      “Deerhounds and mastiffs and—”

      “I could use some company with manners. Captain won’t be able to read my letters or—”

      Or look so damned sexy when he was really a nosy, unprincipled—

      “All right. You can keep the dog. But at the first sign he’s digging—”

      “Maybe you can sew buttons on his paws.”

      “Fine. I won’t read your letters or give your dog to the SPCA and you won’t go poking around the back of the castle. I just don’t want the site contaminated. Surely we can agree on that. Do we have a bargain?”

      Without a word, she turned and walked out the tent door, the dog’s box in her arms.

      “Emma?”

      She heard СКАЧАТЬ