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

moment of silence, and Travis could hear birds chirping in the background along with the high-pitched squeals of the children.
    "You know, if that's what you think, then why have you been kissing me? If I'm such a liar, then why did we have sex? As for everyone believing we're going to be married, that was your mother's doing. But don't worry, even though we had sex, I wouldn't marry you." She took a deep breath. "Ever since that morning down at the pond, you've acted ridiculous."
    "I have not."
    "You jumped up and practically ran that morning. You didn't even come back to the ranch until after I was in bed, and then you left early the next morning. You've barely said more than five words to me since ... since we had sex."
    "I've been busy."
    "Busy avoiding me."
    He took a deep breath and walked away from Rose. "You should have told me you were a virgin."
    Her eyes grew wider, her voice louder. "Would you have believed me, even if I had? Or would you have thought that it was just another lie?"
    He swallowed, trying to find the words to respond. His anger all but dried up, and he knew she was right about everything, but he didn't want to admit the truth to himself—and especially not to her.
    Rose reached for the dainty watch pin attached to her chest, her movements stiff and huffy. "I have to go-"
    "You have rehearsal today?" he asked quietly, suddenly feeling drained.
    "I have rehearsal every day until the day of the show," she snapped. "But don't worry, I'm coming back here to face you after rehearsal. Every night I hurry home to sit across from a man whose face could easily turn to stone, as he tries to avoid contact with me." She glanced again at her pin. "I've got to go."
    "I'll drive you," he suggested.
    "No! Isaiah takes me. Stay here and visit your family."
    She walked briskly away from him, her long skirts swishing as she hurried away.
    He watched her leaving and his heart ached. She'd been right. He hadn't known how to face her, so he'd avoided her. Though all he really wanted to do was pick her up and carry her to a quiet, secluded place and make slow, languorous love to her sexy body for as long as it took to completely satisfy them both.
    How much longer could he go on observing her every day without touching her again? And did he want to?
    Isaiah helped her into the wagon, and it was all Travis could do to keep from running after her. Rose Severin was a beguiling woman, an exciting vixen, and he couldn't seem to get her out of his thoughts. But worse, he couldn't seem to keep the thought of having her out of his mind.
    Their morning together had been so hot and sweet that even now it haunted his nights. Kept him from sleeping as he lay in that cold bed and wondered if a second time with Rose could be any better.
    Yes, she was right, he had treated her abysmally. He had avoided her, refrained from being alone with her, and tried his best to put her out of his mind.
    Because he wanted her so badly.
    But she was always just a heartbeat away. She was always just a thought from crossing his mind and the memory of her on a warm summer day, muddy and soaking wet, would remain with him forever.
    He'd been a fool. What woman would have accepted being treated the way he had handled Rose? What woman would have calmly gone on about her business when he'd taken her virginity and then ignored her?
    Not many.
    Maybe it was time he tried to be a little more understanding. Maybe he needed to at least be kinder to her. Maybe he should start with an apology.
    ***
    "Where is Petruchio?" screamed the director. Nothing was worse than a director with only three days left before the opening, a drunken actor, and a weeping leading lady.
    Rose didn't want to be at rehearsal. For well over two weeks, they had practiced five hours a day, until she felt as if she were repeating the words in her sleep.
    At least clearing the air with Travis had felt good, except he still believed she was a liar and a thief. He'd never shown any trust in her, and she was past taking his unfounded accusations. She had reached her limit with Mr. Burnett, and he would do well to recognize her anger and show some respect.
    For weeks now she had hoped he would one day realize that she was innocent, not the evil mistress that he painted her, but so far nothing had convinced him. And this afternoon's disagreement had left a rancid taste in her mouth.
    She'd given the man her virginity, made love with him, shared her most private, intimate self, and he