Page 64 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

He blinked. Looked away. dBusied himself with checking the horse's tethering.

"Should get some rest," he said. "Long day tomorrow."

"You should rest too."

"Someone needs to keep watch."

"Matthew—"

"There's a gap in the east wall with a clear view of the road." He was already moving, positioning himself near the opening he'd indicated. "Sleep. I'll wake you if anything happens."

She should argue. Should insist he rest while she took first watch. But exhaustion was pulling at her limbs, and the makeshift bed of hay he'd arranged in the corner looked impossibly inviting.

She settled onto the hay, pulling her rough wool cloak around her shoulders like a blanket. The horse shifted nearby, a comforting presence. Through the gaps in the roof, stars wheeled slowly overhead.

She closed her eyes. Tried to quiet her mind.

But every time she started to drift, she saw him scaling those trees with impossible grace, his body moving like a weapon, like a dancer, like something beautiful and dangerous all at once.

She wanted him.

The realisation wasn't new. She'd wanted him for days now, had felt that wanting build with every mile, every shared glance, every night spent wrapped in his arms. But tonight, it was sharper. More urgent.

She opened her eyes.

He sat by the gap in the wall, his back to her, his silhouette dark against the starlit moors beyond. Vigilant. Focused. Utterly unaware of what he did to her.

Or perhaps not unaware. Perhaps just disciplined. As always.

Florence rose quietly. The hay rustled beneath her, and she saw his shoulders tense.

"I told you to sleep," he said without turning.

"I can't."

She crossed the barn on silent feet. He didn't move as she approached, but she felt his awareness of her—the subtle shift in his posture, the tightening of his muscles.

"Florence." A warning.

"Matthew." Not a warning at all.

She knelt behind him, her head against his back, her arms sliding around his waist. He went rigid.

"I need to keep watch," he said. His voice was strained.

"Then keep watch." She pressed her lips to the back of his neck, tasting salt and sweat. "I won't stop you."

"If someone comes—"

"If someone comes, they'll see two lovers tupping in secret." Her hands found the buttons of his trousers. "Nothing suspicious about that. Happens all the time in barns, I'm told."

"Florence—"

"Are you going to argue with me?" She bit down gently on his earlobe. Felt the shudder that ran through him. "Or are you going to let me have what I want?"

He turned then—fast, predatory—and for a moment she thought he would take control as he always did. Pin her down, dictate the rhythm, drive her to madness with his hands and mouth.

But she was faster.