Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Her heart seized and she stepped close to him. “You can’t call me that. What if someone overhears?”
“I’m not spending time in a room with you calling you by your brother’s name.” A deep breath. “We’re alone. They won’t be in until I call them to eat.”
“It’s not smart to get in the habit of calling me that. What if you slip up?”
His gaze seared her and her belly clenched with longing.
“What if, what if, what if.” He put a carrot piece in his mouth and chewed. “What if I kissed you?”
She dug her fingers into the dough and tried to slow her breathing. It wasn’t working. Especially not with the way he watched her.
“That’s not what this arrangement is about.”
He nodded as he went back to chopping. “True, this is about me proving you don’t know as much about my wants and desires as you think you do.” His gaze returned to her as he dumped the carrots into the black cast iron pot.
“No,” she argued. “It’s not.”
His firm lips twitched and she realized he was goading her. “What’s it about then?”
“Me upholding my end of the bargain so you uphold yours.” She bit her lower lip, noticing the flare of heat in his gaze as he tracked her motion.
Cy chuckled. “Is that what you think?”
Honestly, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Regardless, she nodded. “Yes. Because you’re a man of your word.”
He reached for a thing of liquid beside him and she shook her head and moved toward him. Snatching it from him, she pushed him out of the way.
If she could help it, she didn’t want to eat lumpy stew. Without a word, she pointed to a smaller bowl and wriggled her fingers. Silent, he retrieved it for her.
Nothing was said between them as she mixed up the gravy to put in the soup. Taking another saucepan she began browning some butter and adding flour to make a roux.
“You’re pushy in the kitchen.”
He stood behind her, again, surrounding her with his heat.
“I like things done a certain way.”
“Me too.” Cyrus had dipped his head so his words blew along the shell of her ear.
There was suggestion in his tone and she was far out of her depths. She didn’t know how to flirt. Whatever was between her and Anson…well, it wasn’t this. That man made her be on alert, this one, made her want to surrender and let him take the lead, showing her all the things she didn’t know but desperately wanted to learn. With Cy.
“I believe we are talking about different things.”
Cy slid an arm along her side and her breathing hitched. Long fingers nudged the bowl she had with a spice mixture in for the stew.
“If we are, it’s only because you’re ignoring the heat between us, Rebecca. And trying to keep this like we’re both men.”
Her body trembled as he didn’t give her space. And she didn’t want any.
“There’s not heat between us. You need to think of me as a man.”
Outrage. Shouldn’t she be outraged he was putting her in danger by acting in such a manner? Yet, all she wanted to do was for him to think of her as a woman.
“Never going to happen.”
She swallowed back her whimper when he moved away and put a good distance between them. Moments later her roux was as she wanted it and she slowly added it to the stew and the rest of the gravy but now it would thicken and be a bit heartier. She stepped back to the biscuit dough and said, “Cover that please.”
He did before inching back into her space.
“I can be agreeable.”
“Everyone can if they are getting what they want.” Wiping her hands off on the towel at her waist, she reached for the biscuit dough.
“Trust me, baby. This isn’t what I want from you. Not even close.”
She attacked the dough with the rolling pin, wondering how she was going to survive this.
“Get your men to that hill, First Lieutenant! That’s an order!”
Cyrus glanced up at the colonel who sat on his big roan stallion, glaring down over him and his nearby men with disdain. The man hadn’t done much other than venture out of his tent and snap orders. Like he’d actually been in the thick of battle.
Different leading skills.
Personally he wouldn’t send his men anywhere he wouldn’t go whereas this colonel had no problems losing men that were sent out ahead to scout or be the first to engage the enemy.
“Sir, yes sir!” He snapped out a salute before turning to head back to where his men were trying to get some rest, the sun had almost retired below the horizon. They’d just been out on the field of battle for five days and this new company were supposed to help give some reprieve.
A reprieve that lasted maybe six hours. If that.