Page 70 of If the Slipper Fits
Chapter Fifteen
Caden crossed the threshold surveying the neat, traditionally furnished chamber in theJolly Pumpkinfeeling anything but jolly. Having Anna mere steps away was akin to having an itch he couldn’t reach to scratch. So close yet, for all practical purposes, half a world away.
He stripped off his damp great coat, slung it atop the bed, then dropped into the armchair next to the crackling hearth. He pried off his boots, then sat, fingers steepled under his nose, and stared into the flames.
She was here, having stowed herself onto Harrison’s traveling coach. Why?
His mouth curved in a grim smile. At least now he knew why he couldn’t get that infernal, mind-drugging, luscious scent of hers out of his nostrils.
The moment he’d laid eyes on her climbing out of the luggage hold, everything in him clenched up tight like a tiger crouched to spring.He’d wanted nothing so much as to grab her, pull her close, and beg her to forgive him—him—for the things he’d said.
Then he’d remembered her lies. Her marital status.Herdismissal of everything he’d offered—save his kisses. She liked those well enough.
Bitterness and longing and wounded male pride clashed inside him, and the best he could was keep his mouth shut and letherdo the talking.
Then those those damned stablehands started moving about. He hadn’t wanted them hearing Anna’s voice and coming to investigate. So he’d shut her up the quickest way he knew, with his hand sealed over her lips. Big mistake. Huge. The moment he touched her, his self control hinged on the head of a pin.
He’d still wanted answers, but heneededhis hands on her, his mouth on hers, her body under his, none of which could happen, ever again.
Right.
Come morning, after a good night’s sleep, he’d have himself in hand. But tonight,Christ,knowing she was just down the hall might kill him.
Frenetic knocking sounded on his door.
Perspiration blooming over his body, he crossed the cold wooden floor on stockinged feet and swung the door open.
He found the once cheerful inn keeper, now wearing a harried expression.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Thurgood, sir, there’s a might problem.”
“What sort of problem?”
She gave him a pained smile. “Y’see, the weather’s bad, like I told ya.”
Like he could hear with his own ears. Wind rattled the window panes and howled down the chimney chute as if mother nature sought to relocate the entire building. “So you did.”
“The thing is, I’ve a lord, what’s arrived. Claims he’s a baron.”
The hair on Caden’s nape prickled. But, really, what were the chancesthatparticular baron had arrived to this particular inn, tonight? “And?”
“He’s in need of a room and is in a fine fettle at the thought of bedding down in the barn. Sir, what I’m trying to say—ask—is would you mind overly sharing with yer sister. I know it’s a tad inconvenient—”
“—Fine.” A hot rush of anticipation filled him even as he cursed himself for a fool.
She sent him a gap-toothed grin. “I knew you t’be the agreeable sort. If you wouldn’t mind gatherin’ your things? I’d…er…move yer sister, ‘xceptin' she’s in the middle of her bath.”
“I see.” He swallowed. “I won’t be a moment.”
Caden approached Anna’s door at the same instant a serving lad arrived with their meals. He waved the lad off and grasped the rolling cart laden with two covered dishes, a carafe of ruby colored wine, and two crystal goblets. He waited for the servant to reach the back stairwell, then rapped his knuckles twice on the door before inserting the key into the lock.
Steam and fragrant oil a-la-Anna greeted him upon opening the door. Next came the sound of humming and splashing, as if she hadn’t heard the knock. She’d turned down the wall lamps, and the only illumination came from the glowing hearth.
He drank in the sight of her silhouette, unable to move a muscle.
Something—a draft from the open door?—alerted her. Her humming ceased and water sloshed as she dunked herself to the neck. She twisted ‘round to gape at him.
