Page 15 of The Tantalizing of a Scandalous Rake

Acontented sigh escaped Adam as he slipped his arms into a freshly laundered shirt. He almost felt human again now his clothes were clean and crease-free. Most likely thanks to Rosie. He shook his head and ran a hand over his bristled chin. The woman never stopped. He wasn’t sure she even slept. How she always looked so damned beautiful was beyond him.

He paused to run his fingers over the new scar on his abdomen. Fatigue lingered in his body and he swore he’d lost a little weight, despite it only having been ten days since he was stabbed, but the worst of the pain was gone. He just had to move carefully he found.

Which meant he could return home easily enough.

Except he did not want to.

Evening talks with Rosie had become a habit. With no cook still, the majority of the work came down to her, so he aided her in chopping vegetables and meat for the stew every night whilst they discussed family and business and her future ambitions.

He had to admit to being envious of such aspirations. He’d never really had any unless one counted wishing to best his brothers at everything and win his next card game. It was hard to have ambitions as the third to a marquis. No one really expected much of one unless they joined the church and he had little desire to do that. Besides, his investments and skill with cards ensured he did not become some awful drain on the family.

Running a hand through his hair, he paused to eye himself in the mottled mirror. He’d certainly looked better. A good shave, a change of clothes, and his own bed were needed. But that meant leaving Rosie.

And he could hardly do that. After all, she needed his help, did she not?Andthere was a potential murderer in their midst? If one could say anything about his desire to stay, it was a noble one. Heck, maybe his mother would even be proud. It did not mean, however, he was falling for his mother’s plans.

He smirked at his reflection. Of course, his mother had likely expected him to find himself in love with some sweet, genteel lady. He smirked to himself. He did not think Rosie had ever been described as sweet in her life. Intelligent, yes. Bold, most certainly. Without guise or insincerity, to be sure, but never sweet.

Regardless, nothing was going to happen anyway. Simply because he found her the most fascinating and beautiful creature, did not mean he was going to let himself slip up.

“Oh, you’re out of bed.”

He turned as Rosie entered the room. “One day you are going to find me entirely nude if you do not start knocking.”

“I have already seen it all, if you recall.”

“Good Lord, woman, you really do not wish me to regain any dignity, do you?”

“There you are wrong.” She set down a bowl of water on the washstand along with soap, a brush and a razor then gestured to it all. “You would look much more dignified if you shaved.”

“And here I was thinking I looked ruggedly handsome.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “The damned thing itches like the devil though.”

She tilted her head. “Some women might think it a good look on you.”

“But not you?”

She shrugged. “I could not care less either way.”

He suppressed a grin. The slight bob of her throat told him otherwise. Which was good. He liked to think he was not the only person in this relationship who found the other ridiculously attractive.

It did not mean much though. They were fully aware of each other’s good looks. Why would they not be? Neither of them were blind nor simple.

He reached for the soap and winced when his side tugged.

She huffed and put a hand to his shoulder. “Sit.”

A brow lifted, he did as he was told. He’d begun to learn Rosie did not take well to people disobeying her. It was no wonder she ran the inn with so little help. He doubted the woman was capable of delegating work to others. Including him shaving apparently.

She lathered up the soap and he glanced at the blade. “Am I to trust you with a blade to my neck?”

“If I wanted you dead, Adam, I would have let you die in my stables.”

He made a dismissive noise. “I would not have died from such a wound.”

“So you mean to tell me I did not need to haul you all the way into the inn and keep watch over you for days on end?” Her lips quirked as she spread the lather over his face.

“How did you manage that anyway?”

“With difficulty,” she said dryly.

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