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

glared. "Damn it, Rose, you didn't have to knock us into the pond."
    "I didn't do it on purpose, you idiot," she gritted out, feeling the water soak through the calico material of her dress.
    He sat up in the water, spitting and cursing, grabbing for his hat before he pitched it onto the bank. "You damn-fool woman!"
    Without a second thought, she reached into the mud, grabbed a handful of muck and threw it at him, hitting him smack in the front of his shirt.
    His eyes widened; his nostrils flared.
    "You deserved it," she challenged, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. Maybe she had acted a little rash. Maybe she should back away for just a moment and give Travis time to cool off.
    A dangerous spark glinted from his dark eyes, and she knew she was too close to him, perilously close to Travis and his anger.
    She tried to scramble away, but her heavy skirt became bogged down in the water.
    His hand, full of mud, landed square on her chest, brushing against her breast and sending a tingle of awareness through her.
    She glanced up at him, prepared to do battle. Suddenly he unleashed on her the full extent of his muddy threat as he covered her in the wet, sandy ooze. The water churned around them as they smeared each other's bodies, lathering each other until there was not a spot of color or a glimpse of skin that remained uncovered with the wet, gritty dirt
    All the pent-up tension from the night before was released as Rose picked up a handful of mud and plastered it to the top of his hair. Laughing, she watched as the mud ran down the back of his head to his neck.
    With a quick tug, her hair fell from its clasp as he retaliated. Her unleashed curls lay floating in the cloudy water.
    Running out of breath, she stopped and glanced at him. He was brown from head to waist, covered in the oozy, slimy mire from the pond. He looked like a giant mud dauber, his brown eyes big and angry. The image was too much, and she started to giggle. The laughter changed and deepened until she was holding her side, laughing at the sight of Travis covered in the brown silt.
    He stopped and stared, his hand still full of ooze, but slowly a gradual smile lightened his face. With a chuckle, he joined in her laughter. "Don't laugh too hard. You look pretty funny yourself."
    The anger of a few moments ago suddenly dispersed as they sat in the murky water staring at one another, cackling loudly, only to be overtaken by a growing sense of awareness.
    Slowly he released the last handful of mire. "How often do you do this sort of thing?"
    She trailed her hand in the water, cleansing the wet earth from between her fingers. She glanced up at him, her face smiling. "This is my first time. What about you?"
    "Not since I was a boy." He reached over and swiped at streak of dirt on her cheek, his fingers brushing against her skin.
    Rose felt his touch like the scorch of the hot summer sun. Her cheek was on fire. She gazed up at Travis, dipped her hand into the water, and slowly rinsed the mud from his face, tenderly wiping away the wet earth.
    "I guess we better clean up before we go back to the house," she said, her voice soft, a warmth filling her. Her anxiety was still there, but it felt different now.
    Travis cleared his throat, his eyes lingering on the front of her dress. "It might take a while to get all this filth off."
    "Hmm. Close your eyes."
    He gazed at her, his eyes almost touching her, as her breathing quickened. Slowly he closed his eyes, and she wanted him to open them, she wanted to look deep within his soul once more. She wanted him to continue touching the very depths of her with his glance.
    She cupped her hands with water, held them over his head and slowly released the water, rinsing his hair.
    He gripped her, his hands strong and firm around her waist. Again, she cupped her hands, letting the water trickle down the front of him.
    Travis opened his eyes, and Rose felt the heat of his gaze. He released her waist, cupped his hands, and filled them with water.
    "Now close your eyes," he said, his voice a husky whisper.
    Rose lowered her lids as he requested, a sense of vulnerability filling her, as she waited for him to repeat the same process she had done to him. Slowly his hands emptied over her head, rinsing the mud from her face and hair. Repeatedly he poured the water over her, until she felt she couldn't take it anymore.
    "I think I got it all," he said, his voice husky, his breathing uneven.
    She opened her eyes and met his gaze, her