Mary Putney - Angel Rogue

"Very well. I'd appreciate it if you did the same."

"Of course." She got to her feet. "And… thank you, Wolverton. For being willing to help another traveler who might be in trouble, and for being so tolerant of what could have been a fatal mistake on my part."

He smiled, and she realized that he was really very handsome when she wasn't driving him berserk.

"Lady Ross, my life has become infinitely more exciting since meeting you." He turned and walked back to his carriage, collecting his servants with a glance. She watched him leave with mixed feelings. His search complicated her own. Yet she didn't mind the thought that she might see him again.

Half an hour after Robin and Maxie started walking south on Rotherham road, a taciturn farmer offered them a ride in his wagon. Robin accepted for both of them, since they had agreed that the less Maxie spoke, the better. Ignoring Robin's hand, she scrambled into the wagon and burrowed into the crevice between two sacks of seed corn. Then she pulled her hat over her face and gave an excellent imitation of sleep.

Robin frowned as he settled back, pillowing his head on his knapsack. Maxie hadn't looked him in the eye since they had kissed. He didn't blame her for being unnerved; he was, too. What had started as an impulsive, affectionate embrace had turned out to be searing. Emotions that had been numb so long that he had forgotten their names were smoldering into life, and it felt damned uncomfortable.

How long had it been since he had truly desired anything or anyone? Too long.

He glanced over at his companion. Poor Maxie; no female so determined and practical would approve of becoming involved with a vagabond. Nonetheless, she had certainly participated enthusiastically in that kiss. Now she was regretting it. He doubted that she was the sort to waste time feeling guilty. More likely she was afraid that he would press his attentions on her. He would have to convince her of the nobility of his nature.

He smiled wryly at the thought. Noble he was not, but his selfinterest forbade any attempts to seduce his companion. Trying to bed her would surely destroy the companionship that was making him happier than he had felt in a long, long time.

Not that he wasn't lusting after her. She had fascinated him from the start, and that kiss had made him obsessively aware of everything about her. The rhythm of her breathing, the shapely legs that looked so good in trousers, her small brown hands, as strong as they were graceful. He was so conscious of her as an alluring female that it was hard to remember that the world saw her as a boy.

But it was her spirit that drew him. Her bright clarity made him feel younger. Less tarnished. He tried not to think what would happen when their journey ended. Maxie obviously had some goal in mind, and it didn't include him. But he was going to be very reluctant to see the last of her.

Yet what could he offer her? She thought him a worthless vagabond, and he preferred to leave it at that since his real past was far uglier than what she believed. As an American, she would not be overimpressed with the aristocratic birth and fortune that meant so much to English girls. Rather the contrary, he suspected.

It was better that she think him hopelessly ineligible. Her low opinion would prevent her from doing anything foolish if his willpower weakened and he tried to kiss her again.

He found himself watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. What would she look like if her breasts weren't bound?

Damnation! He forced himself to look away when he realized how his body was responding to his speculations. While it was a pleasure to feel desire again, if he weren't careful it would increase to the point of pain.

With a sigh, he settled back on the seed sacks and started considering ways to mend bridges with his wary companion.

The next village had a shop where they were able to buy a decent coat and hat for Robin. After treating themselves to a hot meal in the village tavern, they headed south again.

Shortly before sunset, Robin pointed toward a small barn across a field. "Shall we shelter there for the night? It looks suitably isolated."

"Fine." Maxie turned and headed across the field, wondering uncomfortably what would come next. Though Robin had been his usual easygoing self, she could not forget that unnerving kiss, nor the shameless way she had responded.

The barn proved to be quite comfortable, with few drafts and a stack of sweetscented hay. As they examined the place, Robin said, "I'm considering writing a guide for impoverished travelers, rating the relative merits of various barns and hedges. Do you think there would be a market for it?"

She set her knapsack down by the far wall, as far as possible from where Robin had placed his possessions. "Those who would need such a guide could not afford it."

"Mmm, I knew there would be a catch. There goes another plan to make my fortune."

She almost smiled before she remembered that she was trying to look forbidding so he wouldn't take her earlier weakness as an invitation. Moving past him, she said, "I'll gather the wood."

Robin went to bring water from a nearby stream while she collected an armload of dry kindling that would burn with a minimum of smoke. Then she built a small fire in a gravelly, protected spot not far from the barn.

As dusk darkened to night, Robin sat by the fire a few feet from her and began to peel the bark from a short stick he had found. In a conventional tone, he said, "You needn't think I'm going to try to ravish you, Maxima."

Her head shot up, and she stared at him.

"It won't do to pretend that we didn't kiss," he continued. "It happened. I enjoyed it. You seemed to also. That doesn't mean that I regard you as prey."

"You're very blunt," she said uncomfortably.

"Directness is not my specialty, and it is yours, but I am not incapable of it." With his pocketknife, he began to whittle a rounded end on the stick. "I decided to speak up since I don't want to walk the rest of the way to London with you acting like a stunned rabbit."

Outraged, she said, "A rabbit?"

He grinned. "I knew that would engage your attention. You're worrying too much about that kiss. It was an accident that occurred because we were relieved and happy."

She sat back on her heels, knowing that she must be as honest as he. "Perhaps it was an accident, but ever since we met, I've sensed that… that you find me attractive."

His brows rose expressively. "Of course I do. What man wouldn't? You are very beautiful."

"I wasn't fishing for compliments," she said, embarrassed.

"I know. You've probably had them hurled at you so often that you find the whole subject tedious."

"What I've usually heard is that I look beddable, which is not the same thing as beautiful," she said dryly.

"No, it isn't," he agreed. "But you are both. Small wonder that you've learned to mistrust male attentions." With the edge of his blade, he began to smooth the surface of the knob he had carved. "Perhaps it's my imagination, but I've had the feeling that you find me somewhat attractive also."

Her face colored. She had been trying to conceal that fact. Deciding to toss his words back at him, she said lightly, "What woman wouldn't? You are very beautiful."

Instead of being disconcerted, he chuckled, "I heard that often as a child, and hated it. I longed for black hair, saber scars, and a pirate eye patch."

"Be grateful that you looked angelic," she advised. "It probably saved you from any number of welldeserved beatings."

"Not enough." He blew some wood chips away. "To return to the main subject, attraction is perfectly normal between healthy adults." He glanced up, his eyes piercingly blue. "But not all attraction is meant to be acted upon. Think of our mutual awareness as merely a bit of spice to enrich our companionship."

She studied his face. He was so reasonable. Yet she kept thinking of how little she knew about him.

"You still look doubtful. Let me conduct a small demonstration." He set down his knife and stick and slid sideways around the fire until he was sitting next to her.

She was about to retreat when she made the mistake of looking up and seeing the lazy sensuality in his eyes. She froze, as wideeyed and helpless as the rabbit he had called her.

He drew her into his arms and bent his head. She shivered from sheer nerves when his lips touched hers, but the kiss was light and sweet. His mouth moved tenderly against hers, warm and firm, while his hands slowly stroked her back.

Her tension began melting away. Before it melted too far, she turned her head and released a soft sigh against his throat. "That was nice, but what were you demonstrating?"

"That a kiss needn't be alarming." He traced the curve of her ear with his tongue, and bright sensations spiraled through her veins.

"Then you're successful," she said a little breathlessly. "I'm not alarmed-yet."

He chuckled and sat back a little. "You look very fine in breeches"-he brushed her knee with his "fingertips-"but someday I would like to see you in silk."

She spread her palms on his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath the linen. "Speaking of clothing, did you know that you manage to make the nondescript coat you bought today look almost as damnyoureyes elegant as the one that was stolen?"

"It's a gift," he said modestly. "A friend once said that I was every other inch a gentleman."

As she laughed, he pulled a pin from her hair. A heavy coil dropped to her shoulder and tumbled down her back. She looked into his eyes, and her laughter died. His gaze was pure flame, yet controlled, not menacing.

Pin by pin, he released her hair, the falling locks caressing her breasts and shoulders. Then he drew her head against his shoulder and combed the thick tresses with his fingertips, spreading her hair in a mantle over her shoulders. "Black silk," he murmured. "The most obvious of metaphors, yet I can think of none better."

He felt warm. Strong. Even safe, though her common sense knew that was an illusion. She closed her eyes, enjoying the yearning that curled through her body. Clever of him to make this demonstration. He was revealing his desire and evoking hers, while at the same time proving that passion need not blaze out of control. They were adults; they could be together without mating like mink.

She should move away, but was reluctant to do so. It was seductively pleasant not to be alone.

As soon as the words formed in her mind, she remembered why she should be wary of Robin. They were merely traveling companions on a journey that would soon end. She must not become too fond of him.

"You've made your point." She straightened and moved away. "I shall stop behaving like a stunned bunny."

Robin moved back to his side of the fire. His chest was rising and falling more quickly than usual, but his tone was teasing. "If you become alarmed in the future, another demonstration could be arranged."

A lock of firelit golden hair had tumbled over his brow. She swallowed and glanced away. "Once was enough. This sort of demonstration could promote the behavior it is supposed to prevent, particularly when provided by a slippery character like you."

He grinned. "Nonsense. Surely you've noticed that I am far too indolent to plan a serious campaign of seduction."

"You've never had to seduce a woman in your life. All you need do is smile and wait for them to melt at your feet."

His smile faded. "Not really." He picked up his knife and stick again and started to sharpen the end opposite the knob.

Thinking there had been enough seriousness, she asked, "What are you doing with that piece of wood?"

"Just a fidget stick." He held it out for her inspection.

The stick was perhaps six inches long and half an inch thick, with a natural curve that nestled comfortably in her hand. As she gave it back, she said, "Some sort of toy for adults?"

"Exactly. I'll carry it in my pocket and play with it when the scenery palls." He rubbed his thumb over the knobbed end. "It's convenient to be so simple that such things amuse."

She put more wood on the fire and hung a pot of water above. "You are many things, Robin, but simple is not one of them."

He grimaced. "Perhaps not, but I'm working on it."

"That's your problem. One doesn't work at simplicity." On impulse, she sat crosslegged next to him and took his misshapen left hand in a loose clasp. "Close your eyes, Robin. Don't talk. Don't think. Just be."