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For remedy it she must, no matter the cost to her own foolish heart.
CHAPTER FIVE
Aaron
They had been travelling for three hours and Calliope hadn’t said a word. Not when the pavement gave way to gravel or when the gravel gave way to a dirt road passable only on horseback. She had acknowledged his comments with a nod or a smile, nothing more, until he began to dread the sound of his own voice.
It was making Aaron feel foolish—trying to court a woman who clearly regretted their moment of passion by the bath—but still he tried, yet again, to lure her into conversation.
“We’ll leave the truck here.” He pulled to the edge of the dirt road, leaving the key in the ignition. They were only a few miles from his country home, so there was no need to worry about the vehicle. They wouldn’t encounter even remotely dangerous territory until they had ridden several hours. “I’ve arranged for someone from my estate to meet us with horses a little farther down the trail.”
She nodded pleasantly.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Would you like to have lunch before we fetch the horses or after?”
“Either is fine,” she said, opening the passenger’s door and alighting from the truck with the same grace with which she seemed to do everything.
There, three words. Are you satisfied?
Hell no, he wasn’t satisfied. Since yesterday’s interlude in the bath, nothing seemed to satisfy him. Not since Calliope had taken those damned herbs and lapsed into silence, depriving him of the chance to learn more about her now that she was awake.
That’s how he felt, deprived, as if every second when they weren’t intimately connected was robbing him of something vital.
“Fool,” he muttered as he slammed the driver’s side door and reached into the bed of the truck to grab the camping pack and picnic basket.
He was a fool and as lovesick as the brother they were going to rescue. At least Johann had the excuse of youth. Aaron was nearly thirty and had no good excuse for falling for a woman he barely knew. Yes, the sex had been phenomenal, but sex was just sex. It wasn’t a reason to feel so connected to a stranger, to feel like the color had gone out of the world because she was troubled by something.
“Would you like your shawl?” he asked, noticing the way she rubbed her bare arms as they set off down the road.
She shook her head no and shot him the smallest of smiles.
“My coat, then? I’m not cold.” Aaron started to shrug out of one sleeve, but she stopped him with another shake of her head and a light touch on his arm.
Even that small touch was enough to make his cock thicken, but what else was new? Looking at her, smelling her, watching her brush her hair back over her shoulders—the slightest provocation had him hard enough to break glass. It was maddening and probably the reason he finally lost control.
“What is it, Calliope?” He dropped the basket and pack to the ground and turned to face her. “You seemed willing to talk to me yesterday. Is bedding you the only way I’m to have the pleasure of your conversation? If so, shall I take you here in the road? Will that earn me more than a smile or a nod?”
The shock in her wide blue eyes immediately made him regret his harsh choice of words. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just…I thought it would be best.”
He sighed. What was wrong with him? He had never spoken that way to a woman, not even those he paid for their services, let alone one who he cared for beyond reason.
Beyond reason.
There’s your problem, man. Lose your heart and your reason follows not long after.
“No, I’m sorry. Please, forget I said anything.” After a moment of strained silence, he picked up the bags and started back down the road, ashamed of himself for acting like a madman.
No, it was worse that that. He was acting like a teenaged girl, upset because the object of his affection wasn’t expressing her feelings.
How far the manly had fallen.
“I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Calliope’s voice was cautious, as if she were accustomed to dealing with people who lost their temper.
And he had assumed he couldn’t feel any worse.
“You didn’t. It’s my fault. I’m out of sorts.” He took her hand, resisting the urge to bring it to his mouth and kiss the tips of each of her fingers. “Please, forgive me. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
“You’re worried about your brother. I understand.” She smiled, and his chest grew tight.
