“Are you hungry?” Ignoring his question—or perhaps not knowing herself, his Rose clambered to the edge of the bed and rolled from the mattress. “I will build up the fire.”
Beneath the covers Bull reached for the towel, and in wrapping himself up, his palm brushed against his throbbing cock. The sound of pain he made had her whirling about.
“Are you hurt?”
“Nay.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Do ye…” Christ, just thatglimpseof her, silhouetted by the embers of the fire, that linen shift billowing around her, making her look so sweet and innocent even as he spotted that wet patch… “Is—is yer gown dry?”
“Oh.” There was embarrassment in her voice as she said quietly, “Yes, of course. Give me a moment.”
By the time he rolled out of bed—feeling lower than low—and padded barefoot behind the dressing screen with a clean set of smalls and a shirt and trousers, Rose was fully dressed. He joined her at the small table to eat the stillcrusty bread and surprisingly good cheese, and through it all, she watched him silently.
Too silently.
Finally, unable to stand the awkwardness, Bull captured her hand. “Thank ye, Rose. Thank ye for saving me.”
In the light from the fire, her cheeks pinked. “I…it was nothing.”
“Nay, it was no’, and I’ll be forever grateful. Ye are…” He took a deep breath and admitted the truth. “Ye are competent, and quick-thinking, and I was a fool to think ye should no’ have joined me in my investigation from the verra beginning.” He thought of his assumptions about her at Hogmanay. “I didnae ken ye. No’ really.”
His Rose glanced down to where his thumb was tracing small circles on the back of her hand, and he wondered if she was thinking of the pleasure she’d just taken from his cock.
But her nod was small. Certain. “You didnotknow me then, Bull.” Her green eyes switched to his, wide and full of…something. “Thank you for being willing to admit it now.”
His lips curled wryly. “Ye have a puir opinion of men, then, to think I might no’? Or is it just me in particular?”
“Oh, Bull…” His Rose sighed as she shook her head and glanced away. “I haveneverhad a poor opinion of you.”
“Ye should, lass. If ye kenned half the things I’ve done?—”
“I would likely admire you more.” Rose’s chin rose as she met his eyes stalwartly. “I have only ever wanted you to see me, Bull. Really see me. Understand me.”
Unable to help himself, Bull swayed toward her. He wanted to kiss her—Christ, he wanted to kiss her! But he knew that if he kissed her, with the scent of her pleasure so recently filling the room, the feel of her wetness against his cock, they would end up on that bed.
Happy, and entirely ruined.
But here in this inn, they were merely pretending to be betrothed. That was the lie they’d told Lord Tittle-Tattle, aye? Unbidden, his gaze dropped to her hand.
To the simple ring she wore on her fourth finger. For the first time, Bull realized the emerald in the radiant gold setting was a perfect match for her eyes.
What had Lady Mistree told him when she’d given him his inheritance?When you meet the right woman, that ring will fit perfectly on her finger. Rose didn’t have to curl her fingers to keep it in place, nor struggle with a too-tight discomfort; the gold banddidfit perfectly.
Without thinking, Bull lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckle, right above that ring. The ring which fit perfectly.
Just like her.
CHAPTER 11
The snow didn’t stop, and when the sun finally came up, Bull ignored all Rosie’s warnings and announced that he was going downstairs to check on the train schedule.
“Dinnae let anyone in this room if I’m no’ here, Rose,” he told her sternly even as Rosie rolled her eyes at his command. “And guard that briefcase—we’ve already almost lost that portrait once.”
Rose.He’d started doing that after she’d got him to the inn: not Rosie, the little lass that the family adored, but Rose. A woman.
Pushing aside the thought and deciding not to point out that the painting had almost cost him his life, a price she wasn’t particularly interested in paying, she said primly, “I will guard it with my life.”
His lips twitched wryly. “Dinnae be rash, lass. It’s the key to this case, but this case is no’ worth yer life, nor even ascratch on yer lovely skin.” He tugged on the door handle. “Lock this behind me, aye?”
Rosie followed his instructions, then pulled out Allie’s painting to study it yet again. It was small, and the woman in the yellow dress was lovely, but… Was it Rosie’s imagination, or did she look a little sad? Now she looked more closely, the tip of the woman’s index finger was resting against the largest stone in the ruby necklace, and there was a tilt to her eyes that felt sorrowful.
