Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,88

holding her, whispering that he didn’t know how he’d managed without her.

She held him close, her heart pounding from pleasure and also that new, unfamiliar emotion she knew must be love. Her heart squeezed painfully at the fullness she felt. She wanted them to stay like this forever. In this enchanted clearing, in this world that was only the two of them.

And that’s when she heard the crack of a stick.

NASH RAISED HIS HEAD at the sound. Pru had heard it too. Her body tensed suddenly. Nash looked about, forgetting in the moment that he couldn’t see. Cursing under his breath, he stilled and listened. There were no other sounds of intrusion—no leaves rustling, no murmur of voices or the sound of horses’ hooves. Beneath him, Pru moved to the side and rose up.

“Do you see anything?” he asked.

“No,” she said after a moment. “Perhaps we imagined it.”

“Unlikely that we both imagined the same sound.” He rose, tucking his shirt in and closing his trousers. He moved carefully about the clearing, listening for any telltale sounds, thinking he might flush out a fox or rabbit. But they were too small to have made such a sound. It had to be something larger, like a deer.

Pru moved to his side, straightening her skirts as she used her eyes while he listened closely. “It must have been a deer,” she said, coming to the same conclusion he had.

“Yes.” But if that was all it had been, why were his fingers tingling for a trigger? Why did his hand reach for the pocket of his coat, where his pistol usually rested? Pru took his hand in her warm one.

“You probably startled the poor creature,” she said.

“Me?” He tossed her a scowl, which caused her to laugh. “You were the one entreating God—or perhaps you were referring to me when you called out, oh God!”

She smacked him. “I have no recollection of that.”

He pulled her into an embrace. “Then I should remind you.”

“You should get dressed,” she said. “We have already spent far too long on this walk. Mr. Payne and Mrs. Blimkin will wonder where we are.

Nash wished he didn’t have to hurry away from her. He wished he could spend all day, undressing her, kissing her, laughing with her. It had been years since he’d felt so happy and carefree as he did in her arms.

But she wasn’t his, and he couldn’t make a claim on her even if he wanted to—there was still the likelihood of the asylum in his future.

And he was still blind. But that didn’t seem as much an obstacle any longer. He didn’t feel quite so useless and inept. He’d thought his life was over when he’d lost his sight, but now he was beginning to think he still had a lot to live for. And though he couldn’t see, he wasn’t helpless or useless. He was, apparently, hosting the village autumn festival.

Nash squeezed Pru harder. “You have to help me with the autumn festival,” he said.

“As I told you before, I’ve never been to the festival. I have no idea what’s expected.”

“But you know people who do—Mrs. Blinkin and Mrs. Brown. The vicar and the shrew who makes you sew.”

“Mrs. Northgate is not a shrew—well, not the dowager Mrs. Northgate, at any rate. And I asked her to help me make this dress.”

“Regardless, you can ask for their assistance.”

“I could, but you are hosting the festival, not I. I’m not...I have no official connection to Wentmore.”

“Then be discreet.”

She gave a small laugh. “I’ve not been terribly successful with discretion in the past. But I’ll do my best. Does that mean...” She hesitated. “You said before—”

He lowered his head to her shoulder. “I know what I said, and I didn’t mean to hurt you, though I know I did. I wanted to keep you safe.”

“I am safe with you.”

She wasn’t, but he didn’t want to argue with her now. Soon enough his fate would be sealed. If he managed to escape the asylum, he could end this—whatever this was—then. He could part with her before either of them were hurt, emotionally or physically. Because Nash knew it was only a matter of time before he again made a mistake like he had this summer with Duncan. Only this time he feared Pru would be the one to take the pistol ball, and he couldn’t live with himself if he ever hurt her.

WITH TWO DAYS BEFORE the festival, Pru was busier than she had ever been in her