Even his delicious kiss.
***
Michael believe that the good fortune that had come his way could not increase, but as Emma’s hands expertly moved over his chest, he realized that it had. Her touch was soft and caring and awakened desires in him that had lain dormant for years.
Yet, though he was many things, and it was tempting beyond belief, he would only take the woman to his bed when her own desires led her to it. If she did so, he would happily oblige her.
“You are fortunate that the cut is not deeper than it is,” she said as she dabbed at the gash on his chest with a damp cloth. “This ointment should be enough to help it heal properly.”
He nodded, though he knew she had no idea what she was doing. She was a lady brought up in the strictest of society. In fact, he was surprised she had made a decent cup of tea. Yet, to actually mend him? The woman would fail in that regard, he was certain.
“This may hurt.” She showed him her fingertips, which were coated with the ointment.
“I hardly think after being attacked by wolves…” He grunted, much to his embarrassment. “Ow! That burns!”
“I do not lie,” Emma said with a sniff. “I’m quite skilled in healing, though I know you doubt my word.”
She glanced up and gave him a smile that stirred something deep inside, and he had to close his mouth lest he reveal what she had done to him.
Her fingers were delicate as they moved over the wounds. How easily he could pull her against him with one swift movement. The act was tempting, but he resisted, for he had a plan.
Emma would be here for a few days, and he would need to earn her respect and trust. When she came to speak of the land to purchase, which he suspected was the reason for her calling over to begin with, he would delay his response. Rather, he would act as though she had nearly convinced him. Then, with a final kiss, he would whisper a promise of selling the land but, of course, at a cost.
“You will be fine now,” she said, breaking him from his thoughts. She wiped away the remaining ointment from her fingers onto a rag. Then she took another cloth and put it in the warm water she had poured into a bowl from the kettle. “They should heal nicely, but if they reopen, you must tell me because infection may seep in.”
He glanced down, surprised that the woman did indeed seem to know what she was doing. When she began washing his chest and stomach, her fingers trailing behind the rag, it was all he could do to not roar, so great had she stirred him.
When he thought he could no longer control his desire, she returned the cloth to the bowl and dried her hands on a dry towel. She looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes, and for the first time since he could recall, he was nearly breathless.
She smiled. “That is all I can do for now.”
He forced himself not to swallow and reveal how much her touch had affected him. “How do you know about healing?”
“It does not matter.” She sighed and tilted her head at him. “I must ask you a question.”
“Of course,” he replied. “What do you want to know?”
“I’m thankful you saved my life. In fact, I’m more than grateful for what you did. It was the act of a hero.”
Michael snorted. “I’m no hero. Trust me on that.” What game was this woman playing? Hero? It was the same word she had uttered when he carried her back to the house.
“Regardless, has my mending of your wounds been enough of a reward?” She said this with a smile as she batted her eyelashes.
Fire consumed him, a blaze he had thought to keep controlled. Yet, it only increased as he took in her beautiful face and her pouty lips. Reward or not, he knew what he wanted. So, instead of answering, he pulled her close to him and stopped her gasp with his lips.
Oh, how soft, plump, and so delicate were those lips, just as was the body he held against him. He clasped his hands to the small of her back as his lips danced with hers. How he wanted to explore her smooth skin, not leaving a single area untouched. But patience and discipline would be needed.
When the kiss broke, he managed to whisper, “Now, that was a just reward.” Her eyes were filled with a matching fire, but anger also bubbled underneath. “A woman of such beauty as yourself made me lose control.”
“Then consider your reward collected,” she said as the smile returned and she placed a hand on his chest. “For if you kiss me again without asking…” She moved her hand over his wound and tapped a finger against it, “I will tear this open myself.”
Her eyes told him that, though she was a lady, she would do just as she said, and somehow, he found that a worthy challenge.
“I understand,” he said. “Thank you for the warning. And for mending my wound.”
Emma rose from the couch. “I must sleep. I’m exhausted and the hour is late. May I use a guest room?”
“The bedrooms have no furnishings,” he replied. “In fact, the house is nearly empty.” He pulled the couch in front of the fireplace. “This is not suitable for a lady, but…”
“I have slept on worse,” she replied, lying on the couch and pulling the blanket over her.
He frowned. “You said that before. Where have you slept that a couch does not bother you?”
She looked at him for a moment, and he realized she was telling the truth. Yet, her next question showed him she would not reveal anything.
“Where will you sleep?” she asked.
“On the chair.” He watched the beauty adjust the pillows and blanket, and a new thought came to mind. “Payment.”
“Pardon?” she asked as she turned toward him.
“Payment must be received to stay in my home,” he said, walking toward her. “How do you plan to pay?”
Her jaw fell open, and her eyes went wide. “I have no money. How can you charge a guest to stay in your home, no less on a couch?”
Michael could not believe how beautiful the woman looked when she was offended. He sat on the couch then placed his hands on her arms. “I do not require money,” he said, his hands moving up her arms in tandem. “For that would be rude. Instead, I wish your payment to be a simple thing.”
“Wh-what is that?” Emma said, her voice trembling but he knew not in fear.
He brought his hand to her cheek and let his thumb move across her plump lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “A kiss.”
“Lord Bracken,” she said in a husky voice, “do you think I’m a lady who gives kisses freely to any man?”
“No,” he said and then placed a tiny kiss on her ear, causing the slightest of moans to escape her mouth. “But I am not just any man.”
Before she could respond, he held her face and kissed her sweet lips once more, and though she offered no resistance at first, she finally pressed her hands against his chest and pushed him back.
“That is more than enough payment for tonight,” she said, breathing as though she had just run to town and back. “I can only handle so many violations whilst retaining my dignity.”
Though it was tempting to argue with her, or perhaps take another kiss, Michael felt he had received adequate payment. The weather would see she remained for several more days, and he would have plenty of time to woo her.
Walking to the chair that now faced her, he placed his hand on it. “I will sleep here tonight. May I get you anything else before you sleep?”
“Now you are being kind to me?”
“I have been kind to you since you arrived,” Michael retorted. “That is, since I saved your life.”
The woman let out a harrumph and then blew out the last remaining candle, the glow of the fire the only light in the room. He watched as she crawled back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over her.
“Emma,” he said, “I have one more question before you go to sleep.”
“You may ask, but do not assume I will answer.”
He smiled. The woman was surely tormented by her own desires, and knowing that pleased him. “My kiss. Did you enjoy it?”
“It was the most horrible of kisses a woman could ever receive,” she replied. “Goodnight, Michael.”
“Goodnight, Emma,” he said with a grin.
The woman moved about, making herself comfortable as he pulled his own heavy coat from the floor and placed it over him. Miss Emma Shepherd was many things. A lady who did not think twice at sleeping on a couch rather than a bed. A woman who could mend wounds and had a spark of fire inside her that could show great anger. Yes, she was many things, and he desired to learn more before he bested her by taking her to his bed.
Chapter Six
Emma sighed and pulled the blanket tightly around her. Waking in the morning was always one of her favorite times, for she was warm and snug in bed. Yet, this bed felt strange, not like her bed at all. It was much harder with little or no down, and whatever covered it had a coarse weave to it. As a matter of fact, as she went to roll over, she found she could not. Had someone moved her bed against the wall?
She inched her eyes open. This was not her bedroom at Sweetspire Estates. Then a movement made her turn to see a man - a man in her bedroom! - at the fireplace pouring tea of all things. Why would there be tea in her bedroom? None of this was making a bit of sense to her.
Then memory flooded her mind, events of the previous day. It was a pity Michael was such a rogue, for she entertained the idea of allowing the man to call on her once this was all over.
Of course, he would only use that as an excuse to kiss her. The man, though brave, was no gentleman, and his life and she wanted nothing to do with his life, or anything about him for that matter. Well, perhaps she would not mind a kiss…
She blinked sleep from her eyes and tried to sit. Michael must have heard her, for he said, “Good morning. I trust you slept well. That is, your snoring told me you did.”
Pulling herself up, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around herself, she gave him a mortified glare. “I do not snore! Tell me you are only joking with me.”
Michael laughed and turned toward her with two teacups. “I’m only teasing. Your character remains unblemished.” He walked over to hand her one of the cups and then, much to her shock, sat beside her.
She scooted over until her back was pressed against the arm of the couch. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m surprised you can make tea.”
The man snorted but made no reply.
Rather than ruffle his feathers more, she sipped the tea - it was quite good - then her eyes fell on the window. “Is it still snowing?”
“Yes, of course it is,” he replied. “I told you it would continue for some time. Did you not believe me?”
Emma felt her cheeks heat. “It is not that. I just thought it would have passed by now.”
Michael stood and went to the window. “Come and look for yourself.”
Leaving the blanket behind, she walked over to stand beside Michael and gaze at the blanket of white that covered the landscape. Snow fell steadily to add to what was already there. “Do you believe it will stop today?”
“I do not think so,” Michael replied. “Twenty years ago, when I was but a young boy, it snowed like this. It lasted four days.”
“I was not even alive twenty years ago,” Emma said with a giggle.
Michael turned toward her and frowned. “Are you implying that I’m old?”
“Not at all,” Emma replied, finding it funny the man was so riled by the mentioning of his age. “I was simply stating a fact. But since you are the one who brought it up, how old are you?”
“I’m only thirty, but I’ve been told I look five years younger.”
Emma giggled all the more, but when his frown deepened, she covered it with a cough.
He continued on as if she had not interrupted in any way. “Therefore, I’m older and much wiser than you.”
The man was acting so silly! Age had nothing to do with wisdom; that came with experience. Yet, she had no reason to engage with an argument of that sort with this man, for she doubted he had the ability to grasp such a concept.
Instead, she decided to devise a plan for the day. She had wanted to pretend to be enamored with him to influence the sale of the land. Though she could not leave today, she would be able to start her ruse while she was here. It was almost too perfect.
She placed a hand on his bare chest. How strange that she did not see his state of undress as anything out of the ordinary now. “Your wound appears to be better this morning. Did it cause you any pain last night?”
Michael swallowed, and Emma knew it was her fingertips grazing his skin that made him do it. “It’s much better, thank you.”
“Good.” She allowed her fingertips to trail down a little before pulling her hand back. “I thought a strong man like yourself would not be affected by pain.”
He grinned and took a sip of his tea. “You think me strong?” he asked as he brushed back his hair from his brow. The movement caused his arm muscles to harden, and that heat Emma had experienced before returned.
“I do,” she managed to reply, though she was feeling out of breath. Worried her cheeks would reveal what was taking place inside her, she turned her gaze back toward the window.
“I must feed the horses and make sure their water is not frozen over.” He placed his teacup into her hand. “Since you are a woman, you will make the food.”
Emma gaped at him. “You assume that, since I’m a woman, I can cook? What lady of the ton knows how to do such a thing?”
“I assumed since you are well-skilled in other areas that you can cook as well,” he replied, clearly unruffled. “Was I wrong in my guess?”
Frustration washed over her. The man was right! Yet, she would not allow him to have the satisfaction of knowing that was the case. “I want to join you. I would like to check on Daisy.” When he appeared to deny her request, she added, “Please.”
His eyes lit up, and she had to hide her smile. “Very well. I have extra clothes that will be much more appropriate - and warmer - that you may wear, since you say you have no issue with wearing men’s clothing.”
Emma thanked him, placed the teacups on the mantelpiece, and waited for Michael to return. Based on the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, Emma knew that not only would he sell the land but perhaps even give it to her at no cost. She would continue to use her beautiful smile to influence him to get what she wanted.
Yet, she had to be careful, for a rogue as skilled as Michael would challenge her at some point. Regardless, she promised herself, any desires he stirred in her needed to be kept under tight rein.
***
Emma wrapped a scarf tightly around her neck and pulled her coat in closer as she followed Michael out to the dilapidated stable. She wondered which would cause the poor building to collapse first: the heavy snow on its roof or the constant stream of swear words that flowed from Michael’s lips.
“I will not be bested by ice!” Michael said before bringing down the metal hammer on the ice that filled the water trough. The man had been trying to break the ice for several minutes, and Emma had twice attempted to intervene, yet he would have none of it. “This is exactly why I wanted you to remain inside,” he said as he glanced over his shoulder and scowled at her. “Women are not as capable in certain areas as men.”
She considered taking the hammer and hitting him on the head. “Your disregard for the better sex is laughable,” she said with a firm nod. “Women are doing things today of which were only a dream a generation ago.”
“May the heavens shake with fear if what you say is true,” Michael grunted as he pulled the tip of the hammer from the ice.
Knowing the man was beyond reason, Emma sighed, walked over to a wooden bench, and selected a chisel. Then she returned and held out her hand. “Give me the hammer.”
Michael looked up at her and frowned. “I’m afraid it is a worthy tool for strong arms, not for a delicate lady such as yourself.”
Rather than arguing, she grabbed the tool from his hands, placed the chisel to the ice a
t the wall of the trough. “Watch and learn,” she said. She began to tap the end of the chisel with the hammer. “Brute strength is not always needed.”
As she continued down the side of the trough, the ice began to give way and soon a small section loosened. Aligning the tool once again, she struck the handle of the chisel with the hammer until it went deep into the ice and water bubbled over the surface. With one final blow, a large sheet of ice broke off. “If you would be so kind as to remove that for me. It is something I assume a man should be quite capable of doing.”
With red cheeks, Michael hoisted the ice from the trough and threw it to the side. Immediately, the horses began to drink, and Emma returned the tools to the bench. When she turned, her heart skipped a beat as Michael glared down at her.
“Do you mean to make a fool out of me?” he asked in a sharp whisper.
“What? No. I was only showing you what to do.”
“If you think a woman, even you, knows more than I, then you are quite mistaken.” He spoke in a low growl, and Emma could do nothing more than stare at him in shock. Then he removed a small silver flask from his coat pocket and without another word returned to the horses, leaving Emma confused. And a tad bit angry.
“There is no shame in learning something new,” she said. “Whether it be from man or woman. You cannot know everything. It is impossible.”
He responded by taking a drink from his flask. Then, with a glower, he said, “You are no ordinary lady, I must admit. Mending wounds, you know your way around a stable, you can make tea - your knowledge seems vast. You are forced to remain here with me, and yet you have made no mention of your family, whether they may be worried for your safety or your whereabouts.”
Emma pursed her lips and gave him her best haughty look. “That is because they are in London,” she replied. “They have no idea that I left the house or that I’m here. My butler, Mosley, knows, but because he has gone quite senile, I imagine he has forgotten already.” As she said the last, it occurred to her she may have said too much.
Barons Always Win Wagers (Forbidden Kisses Book 3) Page 5
