“But supper is hours away,” he scoffed, watching her from the doorway.
“Just how long do you think it takes to make bread?” she asked and ascended the step ladder, placing a hand upon the large flour barrel.
He paused, doing the math in his head. “An hour?”
Her laughter sparkled over him from high atop her perch. “It will take at least that for the dough to rise.” She grabbed the top of the barrel and in the blink of an eye, lost her balance. Rory leapt forward, catching Ginny with one arm and, miraculously, the barrel with the other.
He held her tight. “Are you all right?” he asked and eased the still-sealed barrel down the length of his leg to the floor. Unable to resist, he snaked his other hand around her waist and he pulled her closer. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled.
“I am.” She seemed out of breath, like that day on the way to Tucson. The blood surged in his veins. She felt so right against him. Damn good thing he was there to catch her, too.
The woman in his arms made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a cough. He splayed his hands across her back but when she spoke, he realised his mistake.
It was a simple statement, delivered devoid of malice or demand. Without question, he carried out her bidding.
He watched Ginny study the floor intently. “I…I thank you for your service, but must ask that if you are called upon to do such again, please do so without the intimacy you displayed just now.” Her voice could have passed for a light breeze.
Rory was hard pressed to detect any emotion in her request whatsoever, a testament to how much she must loathe him. Damnation, she wouldn’t even look at him. He buried tight fists deep into the pockets of his trousers and nodded. “Fine. My apologies.”
I hope you’re enjoying Whisked Away 🙂
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