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

him.
    "I'll set the table," he said quickly, trying to distract himself.
    Rose sighed and turned back to cooking the pancakes and checking the eggs she was scrambling.
    Travis took out the forks and knives and put them on the table. The plates he took to Rose and laid them beside her. This seemed so odd, Rose cooking him breakfast before the sun had even risen. It felt so cozy and intimate and was just the sort of thing he expected from a wife. And it left him nervous as hell.
    He watched as she walked over to the table, the skirt of her new dress moving with the movement of her hips, and he had to suppress a groan. Would she object if he took her right there on the kitchen table? Slid the dishes out of the way, lifted her skirt, and plunged into her nakedness?
    "Would you like some coffee?" she asked.
    "Thanks," he practically croaked, eager for something to wrap his hands around, something besides Rose.
    She poured the hot, steaming liquid into a cup and then returned the pot to the stove. She stirred the eggs several more times, then scooped them up and dished them out on the plates.
    He watched as she set the plate in front of him and then took the seat across from him.
    Picking up his fork, he took a bite, as an awkward silence hung heavy over the table. "These are good."
    "Thank you."
    She picked at her food, not really eating it, but pushing it around the plate and taking little nibbles. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and wondered if she had experienced the same sleepless night.
    He'd been restless and edgy all night long, constantly tossing and turning. And when he had slept, his dreams had been filled with images of Rose trying on clothes, of her defiantly refusing him in her chemise, her breasts peeking through the material. His hands would reach out to her and he would awaken.
    God, why had he thought his mother's absence would be a good thing? When was she coming back? And how long before his scruples vanished in a heated embrace?
    He glanced up and noticed Rose watching him, her green eyes tempting and seductive, promising enticing pleasures. He couldn't get the chair to slide back quick enough. He had to get out of this small room. Get a breath of fresh air. Maybe even dunk his head in the horse trough, if it would cool him off.
    "You don't want your breakfast?" she asked.
    "I've got to go," he replied, almost running to the back door. He yanked his hat off a peg, opened the door, and walked out without looking back. He couldn't look at her again. Couldn't glance into those emerald eyes and drown in their depths without touching her. And if he touched her there would be no stopping.
    ***
    That did it! He'd hardly said two words during breakfast, and before that he'd almost accused her of getting up early to steal his mother's jewelry. She'd had little sleep the night before, and she couldn't take the tension a moment longer.
    Flouncing indignantly, she ran up the stairs. In her room she changed into Eugenia's old dress and hurried back down. As soon as she found Isaiah, she would tell him to saddle that nag he'd bought in town so they could leave. She couldn't stay here anymore.
    Even the prospect of riding a horse couldn't restrain her from leaving this time. She couldn't face Travis alone over the dinner table, in the parlor, or anywhere else in this big, lonely house. She had to get away now, or else be willing to face the consequences of her desires.
    Racing back down the stairs, she hurried through the parlor and kitchen, then out the back door, taking the same path as Travis. Hopefully, he would have already saddled his horse and gone.
    As she came out of the house, she saw the men riding off in the distance, toward the rising sun, to do the day's work. Isaiah rode with the ranch hands, and her heart sank. She didn't know how to saddle a horse, and it was too late to catch them. She would have to wait until Isaiah returned tonight before they could leave. Unshed tears hovered just beneath her eyelashes. She wanted to leave so badly. She had to get away.
    As she watched the men disappear over the hill, she couldn't see Travis among them, but she hoped he accompanied them, because she didn't want to see him right now.
    Halfway to the bunkhouse, she turned and decided to walk along the pond. After all, there was nothing she could do until Isaiah returned, and she could use a calming, soothing surrounding right now.
    The sun was peeking over the eastern horizon, shooting orange and purple