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“Please, let me go,” she pleaded softly.
“I am not your intended; therefore, it is safe for me to touch you.”
“You must trust me on this,” she said with sorrow. “It is not safe for you, and I truly wish no harm to come to you.”
He slowly let his arm fall away from her, and as he did, she stepped away from him. She didn’t dare look at him. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she feared she’d see pity, or disgust; or perhaps she more feared what she wouldfeelsince for the briefest of moments, his innocent touch had stirred dormant feelings within her.
“You’ll not be able to hunt in this storm,” she said, wanting to think on anything but that brief spark that had faintly ignited her desire.
“It would be unwise,” he said. “But we will need firewood.”
Tara glanced around the room and saw that two broken chairs and shards of broken crocks were the only items in the one-room cottage.
Reeve didn’t waste any time. He grabbed both chairs and smashed them against each other, splintering them further. He broke some other pieces over his knee, and then he piled them all in the fireplace and had a fire going in no time.
“We’ll need more wood. I think I saw a woodpile near the door.”
He was out the door and back in no time, and he repeated his actions until there was a good-sized stock of wood inside.
“Hopefully, the storm will stop before morning, and we can be on our way,” Reeve said, pulling the plaid he had wrapped around his chest off and hanging it from the end of the mantel.
“Or it could last for days,” Tara suggested.
Reeve shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him. “Then we’ll certainly have enough time to become better acquainted.”
Tara had no intentions of becoming better acquainted. The less she knew about this man, the better for him and for her.
She slipped the bundle off her back and took off her cloak, spreading it on the hard-packed dirt floor in front of the fireplace. Her hand disappeared into her wrapped bundle, and when she finally found what she was searching for, she smiled.
She opened the cloth-wrapped parcel and tore the hunk of dark bread in two, offering one to Reeve. “It’s what’s left of the bread I baked for the journey.”
He took the bread from her and sat down beside her before taking a bite.
He sat cross-legged like she did, and their knees looked as if they touched, but they didn’t. She cautioned herself to move away, not to remain close.
Keep away. Keep away.The chant repeated like an echo in her mind.
Unfortunately, she didn’t listen to her own advice. She remained as she was, allowing herself a modicum of closeness to this man.
“This is delicious,” Reeve said after finishing the piece. “You baked it?”
“I did,” she admitted, realizing he would find it odd.
“You’re obviously of noble class, and I’ve never known a woman of your status to cook, let alone know how. That is usually left to servants, is it not?”
She turned his question on him. “You knowmanywomen of my status?”
He laughed. “I will satisfy your curiosity, and then you will satisfy mine.”
He was even more handsome when he smiled, and his lighthearted, teasing nature made him all the more appealing. And both were dangerous thoughts.
She nodded and silently cautioned herself that she didn’t need to know anything about this man, but she was too curious to listen to her own warnings.
He leaned closer to her, their shoulders near touching. “I’m such a devilishly handsome creature that born noble or peasant, women can’t resist me.”
Tara had to laugh since his dark eyes danced with merriment, and his grin was too mocking to take seriously. “That is no answer.”
“But it’s the truth,” he said with a wink.
