curtains, bringing with it the rank odors of horses and leather mixed with dust and wood shavings.
Rhea closed her eyes and breathed deeply. For the first time since he’d arrived, she almost looked relaxed.
“Don’t you love the smell of spring?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Deacon frowned and moved next to her so he could see out to the street below. “If by ‘spring’ you mean dust and horse sweat, then no.”
The town was alive with the hustle of people running their daily errands. A young couple, hurrying up the street, shot furtive glances over their shoulders before disappearing around the corner of the livery. A little girl in a bright blue dress and matching bonnet skipped down the boardwalk with her mother, both of their faces animated with excitement.
What could possibly give two people so much joy?
Deacon shook his head slightly. Humans were an odd bunch. And speaking of odd…
“Tell me,” he said, turning to face Rhea, “if this room’s been here all along, why haven’t you or Colin moved in? It’d be much more convenient than going out to the house all the time.”
“Colin won’t come up here.”
“Why not?”
Rhea shrugged. “Most of the time, I can’t even get him to come into the store.”
Interesting.
“Then why don’t you live here?”
“And leave Colin by himself?” she retorted, her voice distant. “You’ve seen him. He needs someone to look after him.”
Deacon fought back a snort. The only thing Colin needed was a sharp kick in the backside and a long hot bath. At least this morning he’d taken the bath, so that only left the sharp kick. Maybe Deacon could help him out with that.
“Seems to me—” he began, but Rhea cut him off.
“I have work to do.” In one fluid motion, she was off the chair and heading for the door, her sunshine-yellow skirt swishing around her legs.
“Good. I’ll help.” He almost collided with her when she stopped in front of him. Her soft, clean smell distracted him for a moment, tempting him to lean closer and inhale the scent straight off her skin, maybe from that spot right below her ear.
Giving himself a hard mental shake, he righted himself and grinned down at her. “Nice to see you wearing something other than black, by the way. It’s not your color.”
“I don’t need your help.” If the distrust in her eyes wasn’t enough, it practically seeped from her voice.
“Of course you do. So long as we’re married, what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.” He tipped his head a little and grinned wider. “Of course, I don’t actually own anything, so I suppose it’s more accurate to say what’s yours is ours.”
Using the tip of her index finger against his chest, she shoved him none-too-gently back into the center of theroom. “You listen to me, Deacon.” Anger snapped in her eyes as her finger jabbed him over and over again. “We are not married, and once I can figure a way out, we can end this charade.”
“Just remember,” he countered, loving her fiery glare, “you’re the one who started this charade .” She would have made a great devil.
“I remember just fine, thank you very much.” Her glare hardened and her spine stiffened. “But if you’d stayed away like you should have, I wouldn’t need your help at all.”
“Come now, Rhea.” He wrapped his hand around her finger and pulled it to his chest. “Of all the methods you could have used to save your family name, for some reason, you chose to ‘marry’ me. Don’t you think that’s peculiar?”
“I was desperate!” She tried to jerk her hand free, but he tightened his grip. It was rather nice to touch her again. “And you know I had to use you—you’re the reason I was in the fix to begin with!”
Rhea could blame him all she liked; they both knew the truth. Nothing had happened between them that she hadn’t wanted.
“Calm down,” he said softly, “and just listen.”
“Let me go.” The vein in
Rhea closed her eyes and breathed deeply. For the first time since he’d arrived, she almost looked relaxed.
“Don’t you love the smell of spring?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Deacon frowned and moved next to her so he could see out to the street below. “If by ‘spring’ you mean dust and horse sweat, then no.”
The town was alive with the hustle of people running their daily errands. A young couple, hurrying up the street, shot furtive glances over their shoulders before disappearing around the corner of the livery. A little girl in a bright blue dress and matching bonnet skipped down the boardwalk with her mother, both of their faces animated with excitement.
What could possibly give two people so much joy?
Deacon shook his head slightly. Humans were an odd bunch. And speaking of odd…
“Tell me,” he said, turning to face Rhea, “if this room’s been here all along, why haven’t you or Colin moved in? It’d be much more convenient than going out to the house all the time.”
“Colin won’t come up here.”
“Why not?”
Rhea shrugged. “Most of the time, I can’t even get him to come into the store.”
Interesting.
“Then why don’t you live here?”
“And leave Colin by himself?” she retorted, her voice distant. “You’ve seen him. He needs someone to look after him.”
Deacon fought back a snort. The only thing Colin needed was a sharp kick in the backside and a long hot bath. At least this morning he’d taken the bath, so that only left the sharp kick. Maybe Deacon could help him out with that.
“Seems to me—” he began, but Rhea cut him off.
“I have work to do.” In one fluid motion, she was off the chair and heading for the door, her sunshine-yellow skirt swishing around her legs.
“Good. I’ll help.” He almost collided with her when she stopped in front of him. Her soft, clean smell distracted him for a moment, tempting him to lean closer and inhale the scent straight off her skin, maybe from that spot right below her ear.
Giving himself a hard mental shake, he righted himself and grinned down at her. “Nice to see you wearing something other than black, by the way. It’s not your color.”
“I don’t need your help.” If the distrust in her eyes wasn’t enough, it practically seeped from her voice.
“Of course you do. So long as we’re married, what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.” He tipped his head a little and grinned wider. “Of course, I don’t actually own anything, so I suppose it’s more accurate to say what’s yours is ours.”
Using the tip of her index finger against his chest, she shoved him none-too-gently back into the center of theroom. “You listen to me, Deacon.” Anger snapped in her eyes as her finger jabbed him over and over again. “We are not married, and once I can figure a way out, we can end this charade.”
“Just remember,” he countered, loving her fiery glare, “you’re the one who started this charade .” She would have made a great devil.
“I remember just fine, thank you very much.” Her glare hardened and her spine stiffened. “But if you’d stayed away like you should have, I wouldn’t need your help at all.”
“Come now, Rhea.” He wrapped his hand around her finger and pulled it to his chest. “Of all the methods you could have used to save your family name, for some reason, you chose to ‘marry’ me. Don’t you think that’s peculiar?”
“I was desperate!” She tried to jerk her hand free, but he tightened his grip. It was rather nice to touch her again. “And you know I had to use you—you’re the reason I was in the fix to begin with!”
Rhea could blame him all she liked; they both knew the truth. Nothing had happened between them that she hadn’t wanted.
“Calm down,” he said softly, “and just listen.”
“Let me go.” The vein in
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