Page 72 of A Rake's Redemption
“Or he smells oats or hay.” Alex tugged gently on the reins to slow the animal down. “Steady, boy. We cannot move swiftly here. The track is too rutted—”
His words were cut off with a dull thud. The small carriage halted abruptly as one of its wheels caught on a rock. The horse started to move forward, and Inis heard a sharp crack before the cabriolet began to lean dangerously to the right. Alex went to grab Inis and prevent her from falling over the side, but it was too late. The carriage wheel broke, and she went sliding off the bench into the mud.
…
Alex sure as hell hadn’t planned to spend the night in a seedy tavern out in the middle of nowhere. But here he was. Or rather, heretheywere.Sharingthe one bedchamber that didn’t have a leaky roof.
He looked around the public room that was growing more and more crowded and rowdy as the evening wore on. Wood smoke hung heavily in the air, and he tried not to breathe too deeply. The chimney obviously needed cleaning, and the tables and floor needed a good scrubbing, too, since everything reeked with the stale smell of spilt ale and whiskey.
He thought Inis might turn up her nose at such squalid conditions, but she simply nodded when told there was no way the carriage wheel could be fixed until the morrow. She’d also accepted the fact there was only one room habitable.
She was up there now. He’d ordered a wooden tub brought to the room so she could bathe or at least get the mud off. The tavern owner’s wife had provided a plain linen night rail as well. Before he’d come downstairs, he’d assured Inis the bed was hers, and that he wouldn’t be returning to the room until the wee hours.
He was about to prove himself a liar.
It was only a bit past ten o’clock, and Alex was already bored with drinking and listening to the ribald tales of the men whose talk grew more coarse with the number of pints they consumed.
Alex put his tankard down and stood. Inis probably wouldn’t like the idea that she needed protection, but protection she would have. Hopefully, she was already asleep and he wouldn’t have to explain why he’d come back early.
He moved unobtrusively toward the kitchen and climbed the back steps to the second floor. He removed his boots in the hall and opened the door to their chamber softly, not wanting to wake Inis. He didn’t think he’d ever desired a woman as much as he did her. Certainly, none of the wives of thetonhad ever qualified. The temptation to crawl into bed next to her sleeping form was overwhelming, but he knew he would never be content simply to hold her in his arms.
He had done a number of things in his life that weren’t honorable—he hadn’t earned his reputation as a rake by attending church—but taking advantage of a woman forced to share a room with him for the night, and a virginal one at that, was something he would not do. He would spend the night in the lumpy, threadbare chair.
He latched the door as quietly as he could and silently removed his still-damp shirt and breeches. He spread them out on the floor next to Inis’s dress, although the feeble heat from the one log in the small hearth probably wouldn’t dry them by morning. He wished he’d taken note earlier that there was no other firewood. With a sigh, he took the extra blanket folded over the bedpost and began to settle in the chair. It was going to be a long night.
“Ye doona have to sleep in the chair.”
He almost fell out of it at the sound of Inis’s voice. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Ye didna. I have been waiting for ye.”
He peered across the room. In the dim light from the small fire, he could see that she’d propped herself up against the headboard. And… He blinked. Either he was overly tired or the rotgut whiskey in the public room had gone to his head. He thought… He shook his head to clear it. He had not seen what he thought he had. Had he? He narrowed his eyes to focus his vision.
She was naked.
Her long hair flowed like a scarlet mantle over her bare shoulders. Were her nipples a dark, rosy color or a lighter coral? He couldn’t tell from this distance. His cock stirred in anticipation of finding out, but he forced himself not to move.
“Where is your night rail?”
Inis held it up. “Here.”
Alex swallowed hard. “Why are you not wearing it?”
She hesitated, and Alex tried to see her expression, but the room was too dimly lit.
“Do ye want me to?” she asked, her voice wavering.
No. His shaft practically burst through the material of his smallclothes.No. No. Alex grabbed the armrests of the chair to keep from propelling himself forward and uttered words he’d never thought he’d ever say to a woman. “It would be best if you were dressed.”
A strange sound came from the bed, and her voice quivered as she shook out the night rail. “I ken men like women with big bosoms. I should have known ye would nae find me attractive—”
“What?” Alex had somehow closed the space between them, and he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to tug the night rail from her hands, but she kept it clutched over her breasts. “Why in hell would you think that?”
She looked away, and he cupped her cheek to turn her head back and realized it was wet. She was crying.Iniswas crying.
She pushed his hand away and lifted her chin, still not looking at him. “’Tis obvious. Ye are a rake…arake,” she added for emphasis, “who does nae want to bed me.”
If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Alex might have laughed at the irony of it. “I don’t want to treat you like those other women.” And then, for the second time in minutes, he heard himself say something else he never thought he would. “Because I care about you.”
