Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)

“And …?”


“And I told him I’d rather not be a barmaid, but I’d marry him if he liked.”

Rhys coughed. “You proposed to him?”

“Yes,” she answered, matter-of-factly. “Father and I needed more security than a barmaid’s wages would provide. And I’ve never regretted it. Maddox was kind to me, and I was a help to him.”

“And when he died, he left you the inn.”

“He did. And in the six years since, I’ve made the inn my own. In the end, it worked out well for everyone.”

They heard the falls before the ridge came into view. Meredith felt it as much as she heard it: the low, dramatic rush of sound. This was not the trickling melody of the stream, but rather its ominous percussion. The sound of water forced to a crisis, hurtling into the unknown.

Rhys made a contemplative noise. “I suppose that’s fate for you.”

“Fate?” Meredith laughed. “You sound like the old moorfolk, so superstitious. How can you believe in that nonsense?”

“How can I not? Do you think it’s all just random, then? No rhyme or reason to the world?”

“No. I believe in hard work and hard choices. I believe people reap what they sow.”

They came to a halt as they neared the falls. The drop was so steep and unexpected. From their vantage upstream, it looked as though the stream simply hit a wall of glass. Still holding hands, they advanced onto the rocky outcropping that bordered the falls.

“Looks much as I remember it,” he said, peering down over the edge.

Edging forward until her toes met the lip of stone, Meredith followed his gaze. The water plummeted straight down, pounding into a circular pool some ten feet below. A lush oasis of greenery encircled the water—trees, shrubs, ferns. Leafy branches hung over the pool, shading all but the center, where a round column of sunlight pierced the darkness.

Even in full daylight … even to a woman nearing thirty, with a dozen menial tasks awaiting her at home and precious little energy for fancies … it looked enchanted. This pool was like a sparkling, precious gem, sewn into the seam of the earth’s foundation garments. From her girlhood, the sight had never failed to stir Meredith’s imagination and emotions. Her heart began to beat a little faster.

Rhys seemed affected by the beauty, too. His voice became husky. “You say you believe people reap what they sow?”

She nodded.

“Well, look at this place,” he said, gesturing down at the secluded pool. He turned to her, raising his free hand to cradle her cheek. “Look at you.”

Before she could protest the utter impossibility of his directive, he dropped a light kiss on her lips. Then another.

When he spoke again, his voice came from somewhere deep. Well hidden. “This very moment has to be the work of fate. Because I swear to you, there’s nothing I’ve done in my life to deserve it.”

He kissed her again, and she clung to him, dizzied by the height of the drop, and the pounding of the falls, and the soft, delicious heat of his lips on hers. How did he do this to her? She’d been mad for him as a girl, but she’d chalked that up to youthful infatuation. She’d tracked the events of his life religiously for a decade, but she’d told herself that was idle curiosity. And now … now she desired him so much she could scarcely stand, but surely that was only lust. Wasn’t it?

“There’s no such thing as fate, Rhys.”

“Yes, there is,” he said. “You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

Her world started to spin. She pulled away from his embrace. “You can’t honestly claim to live by such a belief. Just waiting to see what destiny brings?”

He shrugged, picking up a pebble at his feet and lobbing it into the pool. “This is what I’ve learned, over the course of my life. Fate is fate. Things will happen the way they’re meant to happen. It’s pointless to resist.”

“Pointless?”

Meredith blinked at him. His argument was starting to chafe her pride. She didn’t appreciate the insinuation that all her work and sacrifice over the past ten years had been pointless. That no matter whether she’d married an arthritic innkeeper or spent her days foraging for roots and slugs, she would still be standing here, with Rhys, at this moment. She wanted him to recognize the effort she’d made to hold this village together. Not only recognize it, but respect it. And she wanted him to see that he could make his own fate anywhere. With his strength, determination, rank, and wealth, he could have so much more than the rural life he envisioned in this place.

Somehow, she needed to shock him out of this blind, persistent belief in destiny.

She cast a brief glance sideways, over the edge of the outcropping. “Perhaps it’s my destiny to fall into that pool.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it? You said yourself, if it’s meant to happen, it will happen. I’ll fall into that pool. And what then?”