Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)

Rhys said, “You can go, Mr. Myles.”


But he couldn’t, Meredith wanted to protest. It didn’t matter whether or not the place needed him; Gideon needed this place. The smuggling trade wasn’t the half of it. Even though he’d grown to a man, that abandoned boy still lived inside him, craving family, friendship, acceptance. He didn’t believe he’d find them anywhere else. If Rhys backed him into a corner … there was no telling what he’d do.

Gideon’s hand went to cover the pistol jammed in the waistband of his trousers. His index finger tapped in an ominous rhythm.

“Gideon, no. You’re better than that.”

“Am I?” He flicked Meredith a glance. “Let’s have her decide, shall we? She knows best what—or whom—this village needs. Who will it be, Meredith? Lord Ashworth? Or me? Seems this place isn’t big enough for the two of us.”

Wonderful. How could he put her in such a position? The eyes of the village were on her now. This wasn’t the time to appear hesitant or unsure. Meredith drew a shaky breath and clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling.

“This village needs an inn,” she said, speaking to the crowd. “A respectable establishment, fit for quality guests. Men may come and go. But this road we’re standing on will always be here. It’s our one resource, and it will bring us a steady stream of travelers with coin to spend. We just need to be ready to serve them.”

Many of the assembled villagers began to nod.

She tilted her head toward Rhys. “We need Lord Ashworth to fund the improvements.” She gestured at Gideon. “We need Mr. Myles to haul the supplies and stores. And we need every willing, able-bodied man to join in the labor.”

Lowering her voice, she turned to Rhys and Gideon. “Gentlemen, if this village isn’t big enough for the two of you … I suggest you begin the work of enlarging it.”

She turned and walked briskly toward the inn.

“How long?” Gideon caught up and grabbed her by the elbow. “How long will it take, this building scheme?”

She looked skyward for the answer. “I don’t know … two months?”

“Two months.”

“Give or take.”

“Very well, then,” he said through his teeth. “Because I know this is important to you, I’ll give you two months. See that Ashworth is gone at the end of them. Or it’s God’s truth, Meredith …” His eyes went gunmetal gray. “I’ll kill him.”

He turned on his heel and stalked off to the stables, leaving her with nothing but a cold certainty that he meant that threat. At the horse barn door, he stopped for a moment before disappearing inside. “Two months.”

Rhys came to stand beside her, laying a hand to the small of her back. “Well, glad to know that’s all settled. Good. He’ll be here for the wedding.”

“What?” Meredith was seriously beginning to wonder if he hadn’t taken a grenade to the head during his time on the Peninsula.

“Two months. That’s what Myles said, wasn’t it? We’ll be married in two months. Next month will be the second reading of the banns, and then a month after that, the third. We can be married that very Sunday.”

She gaped at him. “For the tenth time, I haven’t agreed to marry you. And didn’t you hear Gideon just now? He will kill you.”

He made a derisive sound. “He might try.”

“You’re impossible.”

“So you’ve told me.”

“And … and infuriating!”

“Don’t forget indestructible. And here’s something else. I’m your future husband.” He cast a glance around the crowded courtyard. “All of Buckleigh-in-the-Moor knows it now, so you might as well get used to the idea. In the meantime, I’ll do my best with the romance.”

He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to her knuckles. And despite all her attempts to keep a disapproving expression on her face, below the neck she melted to mist.

“I don’t want to be wooed,” she said feebly. And completely unconvincingly, even to her own hearing. “Go away, damn you.”

“Oh, I’ll go.” He backed away, grinning ear to ear. “I’ll go. But I’ll be back. With flowers.”

Chapter Twelve

After three weeks of camping on the moor, Rhys had learned to enjoy the solitude at night. In the army, there had always been men about. Even though officers slept in tents, he could always feel the bodies crushed around it, hear the noises of men snoring, coughing, frigging themselves to sleep. Truthfully, it hadn’t bothered him. The alternative was to be left alone with his memories, and those were far less pleasant than any rude sounds created by men or war.