“Were you?” The side of his mouth twitched. “Retrieving him?”
She nodded. “I—use him to patrol the kitchen garden.”
“The kitchen garden. Which is outside this house and not my room.” A lopsided smile pulled at his lips. Oh, yes. He was amused. But not in a good way.
Hester’s pulse fluttered softly within the confines of her chest. She found Sinclair annoyingly attractive, but seeing him bare-chested, with a dusting of dark hair spread across his torso, barely awake and rumpled, did something quite unexpected to her insides.
Still holding the snake, Sinclair gracefully slid out of the bed, the sheets dipping away from his hips.
Oh dear.
Sinclair was naked beneath the sheets. Completely.
Gaze still fixed on her, Sinclair came forward, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was naked before her.
No, he knows. He just doesn’t care.
Masculine beauty wasn’t something Hester often contemplated. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the male form, but rather a great many other things took precedence. There was little time to think of physical relations when the opposite sex when you were far too busy making sure the cabbages were free of aphids or the bees were producing enough honey. The harsh indentation of Sinclair’s hipbones stood out, accentuating his lean form. A dusting of dark hair along his chest narrowed and fell below his navel to—
Hester looked up at the ceiling. She managed a working farm. She had been married. She knew what the male appendage looked like. Butgood lord.
A soft chuckle sounded. “Is there something above the bed that interests you?”
“Water stain. I must have a leak in the roof.” She cleared her throat. “If you please cover yourself, sir. This is inappropriate at best.”
“I believe this is my room, Mrs. Black,” he interrupted her. “If your senses are offended, that is entirely your own fault. As a land manager,” he said in a mocking tone. “You gave me the impression you were familiar with all aspects of animal husbandry.”
“I am.” She lowered her gaze but kept it fixed on his face. Hester was rarely embarrassed by displays of mating. But those were horses. Cows. Pigs, even. Not—
“Hand me the sack so that you can take your friend back to the gardens where he belongs.”
Hester’s arm shot out, but she tilted her chin, refusing to look at him further. The warmth of his fingers brushed hers as he dropped the snake inside.
“I have two brothers, Mrs. Black. One older, the other is my twin.”
She cleared her throat at the thought of two such spectacular men parading about. “A twin brother?”
“Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t look a thing like me, but that is hardly the point. Snakes in one’s bed among brothers is a common prank. Frogs work well too, if you’re interested. The occasional lizard. I grew up in the country. I thought I mentioned that fact to you.”
He hadn’t. Or if he did, Hester failed to note it. Sinclair seemed like such a card playing dandy, a man accustomed to life in town, so completely out of place in Lincolnshire that she hadn’t considered he’d not been born in London.
“If you really wanted to get rid of me, you should have used an adder, not some poor grass snake. Let me guess. I was to pop from my bed, screaming and flapping about. Terrified, as if I was a proper young lady with a spider in her hair. You would then, sadly, inform me that the house is infested with snakes. Or there was a nest in my room. I’d be forced to seek other accommodations or give up completely because Blackbird Heath is a frightening place. I’m rather insulted you think me such a milksop.”
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“Catch me unclothed?” A rolling bit of laughter came out of him, floating like warm water over Hester’s skin. “Good lord, look at the blush on your cheeks. You, who run a bloody farm.”
“Yes, but there is a great deal of difference between a stallion and you, Mr. Sinclair.”
He shrugged. “Not in my estimation.”
What an arrogant—“I am not,” Hester annunciated every word before turning to look directly at him. She assessed him slowly, lips tight, tamping down the flowering arousal between her thighs. He was goading her, and Hester would not allow it. “Theleastprudish. As you have so kindly reminded me, I manage a farm. I am a widow. And I am not at all impressed with your vulgar display.”
Sinclair loomed over her, so male. Big. Somewhat intimidating. Things appeared far larger than she would have anticipated.
Arousal brushed over her skin once more.
“My face is up here, Mrs. Black.”
