The Rancher Takes A Bride (The Burnett Brides Book 1)

unexamined. Before she was enticed to seek fulfillment with Travis, if only for a little while, even if the man would never marry her. Not that she would ever tie herself to a man, but still, if ever there was a temptation, this man was certainly beguiling.
    Crossing the room, Rose sat down at the dressing table. She pulled the pins from her hair, letting it tumble freely down her back. Picking up the comb, she pulled it through her springy curls, gently pulling the tangles out, wishing the problems in her life were as easily untangled.
    Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound melancholy, lonely, and she wondered when Travis would return from the barn. The ride home had been tense with unspoken feelings made worse by his secret glances and covert scrutiny, which left her flushed, yet shaken. The knowledge that they were alone made her as nervous as a card cheat surrounded by gunslingers.
    She wanted what she could not have. She wanted Travis Burnett, in spite of the fact that he thought she was a thief. In spite of the fact that he had dragged her against her will to his ranch. Common sense denied her, but her heart wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to experience his kisses, wanted the pleasure of his touch. If only for a little while.
    Quickly, before she succumbed to her desire, she unbuttoned her dress, struggling with the tiny pearl buttons in the back. Finally, she managed to unhook the diminutive buttons and ease the garment down her shoulders. She would have slept in the garment before she allowed Travis to help her undress.
    Stepping out of the new dress, she hung it up in the armoire alongside her other new clothes. She smoothed the emerald cotton skirt, the fabric crisp beneath her fingertips, and wondered about her good fortune, her conscience twanging oddly.
    All her life she'd learned how to dupe people, how to play the art of the con. Why was she suddenly having difficulty accepting her profession? Why did her business seem almost contemptible after spending time at the Bar None?
    She wasn't hurting anyone. Oftentimes she eased people's pain when they learned their loved ones were happy and doing well on the other side. So why was she having so much trouble now?
    Because Travis Burnett thought she was a thief, and suddenly his opinion held significance. She clutched her hands to her head and refused to consider why Travis's opinion was of value. She couldn't think about why he mattered.
    She stood, determined not to think of her predicament any longer, and located the new nightgown Eugenia had bought her. She slipped the cottony garment over her head, and the filmy white gauze draped her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. She twirled about, feeling luxurious. Never before had she been so fortunate.
    Downstairs, she heard the front door open and close with a decisive click. Only Travis shut the door that way. She couldn't face him, couldn't take the chance of seeing him and being unable to resist the temptation he presented. She blew out the lantern and quickly, before she changed her mind, yanked back the covers and jumped into bed.
    The sound of Travis's heavy footsteps tramping up the stairs reminded Rose of a death march. Each step was measured and slow, as if he were climbing to the gates of heaven—or hell.
    At the top of the stairs, his footsteps halted. He stood right outside her door. Her heart pounded in anticipation. He paused for a moment, and she imagined him contemplating whether to push open the door or continue on to his room.
    Rose held her breath, part of her secretly wanting him to open her door, push open that portal and let her experience the wonder of being in his arms. Experience the sensations only he aroused in her, to their completion.
    Yet part of her feared that if he opened her door, she would be forever lost, for it would be impossible to turn him away. That he would take her fragile heart and shatter it into a thousand pieces when he discarded her for his perfect little wife.
    Finally, she heard his boots as he walked across the hall to his own room. A huge sigh of relief, a sigh of regret, escaped her. She had no desire to be his woman. She had no desire to be any man's mistress. Yet with each departing footstep she wanted to cry, and that perhaps scared her most of all.
    ***
    Travis stepped into his room and closed the door. Why did he feel this sense of disappointment? What had he expected, her waiting to lure him into her bedroom? So they were alone.