Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)

“Yes, I know. Myles and I had a not-quite-friendly chat just before he left town last week. Just how involved are you with that business?”


“I’m not—” She swallowed hard. What use was there denying it? “Not very.”

He gave her a queer look as he backed away, returning to his pile of stones. “That’s what I’d hoped. But this morning made me wonder.”

A queasy feeling churned her innards. She recognized it as guilt. And why should she feel guilty, simply because she’d done whatever she could to ensure the village’s survival?

“Rhys, try to understand. Our livelihood as a village … it’s a delicate balance, and you’re threatening to topple it.”

“Topple it? I want to rebuild it, on something more solid than ghost stories and smuggled brandy. My ancestors supported this village for generations.”

“Yes, but this generation doesn’t understand. There’s already a betting pool down at the tavern. The men are all laying wagers on how long it’ll take you to leave.”

“Oh, really?” His voice went dark. “What date is your money on?”

“I’m not a gambler,” she said, hoping a little smile would lighten the mood. “You’ve been gone for so long. It’s hard for people to believe you’re serious when you say you’re here to stay.”

“Well, I don’t know what else I can do to convince people”—his pointed look told her he meant the one particular person standing before him—“that I’m truly here to stay. Other than to stay. And keep building up these stones, no matter how many times they knock them down.”

“You truly mean that? No matter what they do, you’ll remain here on the moor?”

“Like a damned boulder.” An ironic smile quirked his lips. He ran a hand over his hair, then wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Let’s put it this way. It’s not like I have something better to do.”

Was that meant to reassure her? It didn’t. Perhaps it helped convince her he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, but it certainly didn’t make her any more inclined to marry him.

Marry me, Meredith. It’s not like I have something better to do.

“Just the same,” he said, “I’d rather not rebuild this foundation a dozen times. I suppose I’ll start camping out here to guard it. You’ve need of your guest rooms anyway.”

“Out here? At night?”

“I’m a soldier. I’ve camped in worse conditions than these.” He looked around the rubble. “Much worse.”

Her gut told her he wasn’t exaggerating. But even if he could endure it, she hated the thought of him staying out here in the cold when she had warm beds and hot food at the inn. Not to mention, the open moor was dangerous at night. Dark, damp, perilous. In protecting the cottage, he’d only be endangering himself. Next time Gideon’s supporters got up to their mischief, the house wouldn’t be their target. Rhys would.

“There has to be another way,” she said.

“Perhaps. If there is, I’m certain you’ll think of it. You’re cleverer than I am.”

And with that he went back to work, lifting stone after stone. He began to arrange some of them into a line.

With a defeated sigh, Meredith sat down on one of the largest boulders. She didn’t feel up to walking back just yet. She was fatigued and frustrated and boiling angry on Rhys’s behalf. Those Symmonds boys had better have cleared out by the time she returned, or she’d be breaking bottles over both their heads.

For the moment, she simply sat and watched Rhys, and the controlled wrath in his movements as he hefted and slung the rocks from one place to the other. Beneath his shirt, his muscles bulged and flexed. His face was a mask of grim determination. When stone cracked against stone, Meredith felt the echo reverberate in her spine, but he didn’t even flinch.

What must it be like, to possess that kind of power? If only she had the strength to build walls with her own two hands … She’d have already built her new guest wing for the inn.

An idea began to form in her mind.

“If you’re building with cob,” she said thoughtfully, “there’s a great deal of waiting involved. You have to build it in rises, you know. So the walls don’t buckle or crack. Just a few feet of height at a time, and you’ll need to let the walls settle between each rise. A week, at least.”

“I’m certain I’ll find ways to keep myself busy hereabouts.”

“Perhaps. But the ideal would be to have two buildings going up at the same time. While one rests, you add a layer of cob to the other. And the reverse.”

He propped one boot on a stone and looked up at her. “Are you saying I should build two cottages?”

“No.” She leaned forward, suddenly excited at the brilliance of the scheme. “I’m saying we should become partners.”

One eyebrow rose. “Isn’t that what I’ve been suggesting?”

“Business partners, not …” Her hands fluttered. “Just hear me out.”