Patra looked up, biting off a length of thread. ‘Do you need something?’
Brennan grinned, covering up the moment of inner turmoil with nonchalance. ‘Yes, I do. I need an answer to my proposition last night.’ She gave him a quizzical look, unsure what to say. He stretched out in the grass beside her. ‘You know, the one I made right before I kissed you.’
Of course he would mention that. Patra felt her cheeks flush and she struggled to thread her needle. He really didn’t play fair. Last night was supposed to exist in a vacuum, it wasn’t official, it wasn’t supposed to count for anything beyond a momentary escape. How was it that a singular evening had now become the basis for a proposition? A proposition she didn’t quite remember. In her defence, she’d been more focused on his mouth at the time than she’d been on the words coming out of it.
Brennan reached over and took the needle from her, threaded it deftly, much to her irritation, and set it aside. ‘Perhaps you need a reminder?’ His voice was a low seductive ripple of words. ‘I believe I was like this.’ His body angled close to her as it had been last night, the mere proximity of him sending a heated rush through her. ‘My hand was just so.’ His palm cupped her jaw, warm and welcoming against her skin. ‘My mouth was here—’ here being a scant half-inch hovering above hers ‘—and I said...’
Patra swallowed, his touch doing all sorts of things to her self-control. She remembered now. ‘Something about joining forces.’ At the time, she hadn’t given it much credence, just words murmured in flirtation at a hot moment.
‘Well? What do you think? We both have unwanted suitors. By pretending to be together, we can convince them their attentions are futile.’ It was hard to resist when his voice was a husky murmur against her throat, his mouth teasing her with its nearness, making her memory crave his kiss. ‘It would be worthwhile, Patra.’
Patra summoned the last of her willpower and pulled back. ‘Worthwhile for whom? You? What happens when you leave? I will be the poor jilted widow.’ That was only the obvious concern. Brennan only thought it would be worthwhile for him. He saw this as a long-term escape from Katerina’s clutches.
‘For you, too,’ Brennan argued, dropping his hand from her cheek. ‘You can satisfy the town’s desire for you to socially engage while not having to entertain one of those greybeards under false pretences.’
On the surface, it did look like an expedient solution to the rather pesky problem of her insistent suitors. Still, she wasn’t naïve. She doubted his motives were entirely altruistic. ‘Somehow I doubt it’s that simple,’ Patra challenged. ‘Do you think to use it as a ploy to land yourself in my bed? Steal a few more kisses?’
‘Nothing will happen that you do not wish. What we do inside the privacy of the ruse is up to us alone,’ Brennan said solemnly. She believed him as far as that went. He was a rogue, but he had honour. He would never force himself on her. But that was the problem. She highly doubted there’d be any force involved. What if she did wish for something more? Or thought she did?
Last night was proof enough that he could coax a response from her, that she was not immune to the pull of attraction between them. The power of attraction would rear its head as it had last night. They could not spend time in one another’s presence and remain entirely unaffected. Did she dare explore that pull when it surfaced again? Above all, could she keep Brennan safe from her secrets? Anything more than a temporary association with her could be, well, deadly, if the wrong people heard of it.
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