Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)

He studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “If you say so.”


Why did he act so surprised? Surely he must be the recipient of a great deal of female attention, wherever he went. How could a woman not be attracted to him?

She watched as he picked up the naked, quivering egg he’d so painstakingly shelled. He halved it with a single snap of his jaws. The muscles in his cheek worked as he quickly downed the remainder. What an intriguing combination of tenderness and power he embodied. She imagined herself bared and white and trembling before him. So slowly, carefully revealed, and then … devoured. Just thinking of it made her a little bit afraid, and aroused beyond measure.

“If you don’t wish to … to get children,” she asked, “why on earth do you want to marry?” When men took an interest in her, bedding was usually foremost in their minds. And it wasn’t as though she had money or influence to offer. Not enough to sway a peer of the realm, at any rate.

“I’m going to take care of you.”

“I take care of myself. Quite capably.”

“Yes, you do. And you take care of your father, and this inn, and the whole blasted village too. Things that should be my responsibility, now that I’ve inherited. I can’t allow you to continue working so hard. I’m the lord of this place now, and I’m going to assume my role in the neighborhood.”

She laughed. “Did you not notice the mob that greeted you this morning? The villagers don’t want your help. They want you gone.”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t a mob, it was a band of fools.”

“They may be fools, but they’re big, strong fools. They could make real trouble for you, if they wished. And Gideon Myles is no simpleton.”

“Gideon Myles.” He snorted. “What is that man to you?”

Was that sudden edge in his voice jealousy? It shouldn’t thrill her, but it did. Straight down to her toes.

“He’s a business associate. And a friend.” And a smuggler who won’t hesitate to use violence, if it suits his purpose. She cleared her throat and continued, “Exactly what are your plans, Rhys?”

“I plan to marry you.”

That thrill shot through her again. “Other than that.”

“I plan to live up to my responsibilities as lord. Give the village some means of support. It will take time, but I’ll rebuild the estate.”

“Rebuild? Rebuild Nethermoor Hall? Whyever would you want to do that?” She knew what kind of childhood he’d endured in that house. Why would he wish to rebuild it? Not to mention, no matter how much he wished it, Gideon Myles and his associates would never allow such a thing to occur. “And how do you think you’ll accomplish the construction? The local men will never work for you.”

“They will if I pay them enough.”

She shook her head. “The older ones still hate your father. The younger ones, what few there are, have grown up hearing all manner of superstition and tales. They’ll be afraid of you.”

“Well, if I can’t find local labor, I’ll just have to bring in workers from Plymouth or Exeter, I suppose.”

“That will cost you dear.”

“I’ve some lands in the North I plan to sell. And I’ve lately come into some money. Not enough to restore Nethermoor Hall to full grandeur, but wisely invested it’ll put a house together and leave enough left over to live on.”

And if the investments weren’t wise and they failed, what then? He’d be bankrupt with no source of rents or income. He’d leave again. Somehow every possibility ended with him leaving again.

“You won’t need to do this anymore when you marry me,” he said, looking around the room. “Work, I mean. I’ll provide for you and your father both.”

At the mention of her father, she felt a sharp twist in her chest. Drat him, he was making this so difficult.

“But I like the work here,” she protested. “I’m proud of what I’ve done with this place, and I’ve plans to do more still.”

“You could do far more as the lady of the manor.”

“Rhys … you’re being so naïve.”

His eyebrows rose. “Me, accused of naïveté. I must say, I never thought that day would come. I’ve a mind to engrave the date on a plaque.”

“You’ve forgotten what life’s like out here. Right now it’s a pleasant summer’s morn, but you must recall how winter gets. It’s harsh, lonely, desolate. You can’t actually want to live here again. And we’ve learned to survive without a lord. Just go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why the devil not?” Meredith certainly would, if she were Rhys.

“Circumstances would only pull me back. It’s fate.”