Page 18 of The Tantalizing of a Scandalous Rake

Perhaps the latter part was a lie, but it was one she would gladly tell herself if it meant she kept her wits about her when Adam was around.

Chapter Seven

Well, this was new.

New and uncomfortable. The deep, grating sensation in Adam’s gut made him curl a fist.

He leaned against the doorway of the taproom and watched the gentleman rest a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. She brushed it off as expected but kept a forced smile upon her face.

Harriet paused in front of him, an empty tray in hand. “Should you not be in bed, my lord?”

“If I stay abed any longer, I shall go out of my wits.” He kept his gaze on Rosie and wondered what it was she had said to the man as she breezed off to the next table.

The petite woman glanced Rosie’s direction and her lips curved. “There is not a night that goes past when Rosie does not get some proposition or other.”

“Do these men have nothing better to do with their time?” he muttered.

“Than try to sway a beautiful woman into their bed?” she asked, amusement creasing her eyes when he finally looked at her.

“Rosie is simply trying to do her job. Could they not leave her to it?”

“She’s well used to handling the attention. I would not let it bother you.” She looked over her shoulder then back to Adam. “But I can see it does bother you very much.”

“As well it should.” He straightened. “They’re fools, running after her like damned whelps with their tongues hanging out.”

“You cannot deny she is a beauty and would make a fine wife. I do not think there is any foolishness in pursuing such a woman.”

No. There was not. But he wished like hell these men would steer clear. He’d already heard one man propose marriage and his heart had clenched so tightly, he feared it would never return to its normal size.

Of course Rosie had laughingly brushed it off but for one small moment, he’d feared she would tear off her apron and say yes to the stranger. After all, the gentleman had coin and an appearance of wealth. Why would she not take him up on his offer?

He clenched his jaw and watched her move to another table of drooling imbeciles. Three days since they’d kissed and they both acted like nothing happened, him aiding her in the kitchen in the evening, whilst she talked of her plans for the inn. Three days and he’d learned even more about her.

And nothing that he had learned could persuade him he did not want to re-enact that outrageously sensual kiss. For the rest of his days he would not forget that woman straddling him.

“Perhaps you should go to bed, my lord.” Harriet peered up at him. “You look a little red in the face.”

“I am perfectly well.”

“Then you shall be returning home soon?”

He narrowed his gaze at her knowing smile. Simply because he wanted to remain around a little longer and aid Rosie did not mean anything. Admittedly, he wanted another kiss. Admittedly, he wanted more. Though the doctor would likely have a thing or two to say about that. His side remained tender and the stab wound had been superficial—thankfully—but he shouldn’t be doing anything vigorous. And he knew damned well if he took Rosie to bed, it would be vigorous.

And dangerous.

Rosie was not the sort of woman one bedded then left, even if half the men in here would happily do such a thing. Not to mention, his mother would be thrilled he’d taken up with a woman, even if Rosie was likely not who she pictured for him.

“My lord?”

“I’m not yet healed,” he lied.

Her lips quirked. “Of course not. But do you not miss home? It would be more comfortable than staying here surely?”

More comfortable, yes. But there was no Rosie at his brother’s estate. Damn. The woman had a hold and a half over him.

“I must stay here until we find out who stabbed me.”

“I think if the man is smart, he has fled.”

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