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She leaned closer, and he saw the sadness in her gaze. “I wish you hadn’t,” she nearly whispered.
Rafe began to slowly twist his wrists. “Sylvia, please,” he said as gently as he could manage. “Tell me what’s going on. Why were you out there?”
But she turned around and walked back toward the fire. “It’s better you don’t know.”
Dammit, was she trying to protecthim?
“I can help you,” he insisted, but she only shook her head. Rafe sighed. Not once had he ever been so tempted to reveal his cover. But if it persuaded her to be honest with him, to let him help her get out of whatever mess she was in…
No. He simply couldn’t. Not until he had a better understanding of what was going on.
“Will you at least tell me where you got your trousers?”
Sylvia glanced over her shoulder but didn’t respond.
“This is a rather good knot,” he tried again. “And a decent fire. I’m beginning to think your skills extend far beyond secretarial work.” That elicited a snort. “Few know this,” he continued, “but a competent woman is one of my weaknesses.”
That got her. Sylvia whipped around. “Are you actuallyflirtingwith me right now?”
Rafe managed what he thought was a rather rakish shrug. “Is it working?” She rolled her eyes in answer, and he let his gaze linger on her form. “You know, I imagine there are a lot of men who would pay quite handsomely to be tied up by a woman wearing trousers. And here I am, getting it for free.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared. It was absurdly attractive. “If you want to shock me, you’ll need to do better than that.”
“All right. Come closer.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she huffed, but even in the low light he could see the flush cresting her cheeks.
“I’m tied to a chair in a glorified pirate’s outfit and you’re dressed as a boy. There are several things about this situation that are ridiculous.”
The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried not to smile. “I suppose that’s true.”
Rafe pulled harder against the rope. “You can’t keep me tied up like this forever, Sylvia. A man has needs, you know.”
The concern returned to her eyes, and she moved toward him once again. “Are you saying you need a wee?”
Christ, that made him sound like a child. “Well, not now. But it’s damned uncomfortable.” That wasn’tentirelytrue. Sylvia stepped closer, and Rafe’s cock began to stiffen.
“I’m not untying you, Rafe.”
Why did his name always sound so wicked coming from her lips? It sent a delightful shiver down his spine.
“Well, then,” he drawled, slowly dragging his gaze up to her face. “I suppose you’ll just have to do something else to make me more comfortable.”
***
Even while indisposed, the man was positively incorrigible.
Sylvia had only realized the identity of her pursuer once she had deposited him in the nearest chair and removed that ridiculous wig. She hadn’t been scared in the least, as the adrenaline from their chase was still coursing through her veins, just incredibly angry. Everything had all been going according to plan. And she had been so close to putting this awful night behind her. But when she tore off the wig, she had gasped aloud in the quiet room, so deep was her shock.
She needed time to figure out what this all meant. WhyRafehad followed her into the woods. It was nearly a half hour later, and she still wasn’t any closer to unraveling the mystery before her. Was he simply trying to be heroic? Did he think she intended to harm someone at the castle? Or was he somehow connected to her blackmailer? The last thought was why she was reluctant to untie him just yet.
It also seemed much safer for them both if his movements were limited. Unlike their previous meetings, there was no chance of anyone finding them here. No worry that they could be caught at any moment. They were deep in the woods. And entirely alone. Her eyes began to drift toward the narrow bed in the corner, but she immediately halted their progress and returned her focus to Rafe. The corner of his mouth lifted. Of course he had noticed.
She came closer, even while her mind screamed out with every step. He wore a blue velvet coat with gold embroidery and she smoothed her palm across one of his well-formed shoulders. His breath caught at her touch. She pulled her hand back, wishing she wasn’t quite so flattered by his reaction. “Your coat is damp. Are you cold?”
Rafe’s eyes burned into her own. “At the moment I feel rather overwarm.”
Sylvia blushed again. She, too, was growing warmer, and it wasn’t from the measly fire she had built.
