Page 15 of A Lover for Lady Jane (The Welsh Rebels #5)

“Of course,” she told the woman. “Rhys will set your door to rights in no time.”

She had chosen her brother’s name for her supposed husband, thinking she had more chance of remembering the fake name if it was one she was familiar with. Griffin wrapped an arm around her waist, indicating he’d understood he was to answer to the name of Rhys from now on.

“If we could bother you with a blanket or two and some food and drink, I will also strengthen this one before leaving,” he added, gesturing at the door hiding the interior of the cottage from view. “It looks about to fall apart as well.”

“You have yourself a bargain, young man, though I was about to offer food and blankets anyway.” The woman’s eyes gleamed. “I cannot let your lovely wife freeze and starve, now, can I?”

“Thank you, you’re very kind.” Jane found it hard not to blush. Though she had been the one suggesting she pose as Griffin’s wife, she could not help feeling embarrassed.

They waited, shivering in the rain, while the old woman went in search of the promised items, A moment later, she reappeared, a wicker basket and two blankets in hand.

“Here,” she said, handing everything to Griffin. “You’ll find all you need in there. Good night to you.”

The Lord help him.

Eyes screwed shut, face turned to the door, Griffin was doing his best to control the surge of desire flooding his body.

Behind him, Jane was getting undressed. To his shock, as soon as they had entered the barn, she had announced that they would have to discard their wet clothes and wrap themselves in the blankets before burying under the hay.

She was right, of course, it was the only way they would get warm and dry, but…

But there was an obvious flaw with this sensible plan.

The thought of her naked under the loose blanket was creating havoc in his mind.

And this was nothing. He already knew she would be too cold to remain far from him.

Just like she had in the forest, she would want to nestle inside his warmth. How was he to stand it?

“I’m ready,” she called out after a short while. “It’s your turn.”

Griffin started to undress without turning around.

Would Jane turn her back like he had done, or would she watch him?

Between the storm and the fading daylight, it was rather dark in the barn.

Perhaps she would not see much, even if she decided to spy on him.

What would she think of his body? Had she even seen a naked man before?

Doing his best not to betray his unease, he made quick work of disrobing and putting the second blanket over his shoulders.

Damnation, it was too small to cover the lower part of his body as well, the one he most needed to keep hidden from view.

Having no other choice, he wrapped the piece of cloth around his loins.

There. Now all he had to do was to will his erection down and he would be quite presentable.

He turned around, hands in front of his groin.

Jane was sitting on the straw, her legs folded under her, her wet hair falling over her shoulders.

His throat went dry. She looked so sweet and innocent, yet so alluring at the same time.

Without her fine gown, she could have been a villager, just like him, a woman he could touch.

A woman he could kiss. Suckle. Lick. Devour. Possess.

“Aren’t you cold like this?” she asked, when she saw he was bare-chested.

Well. No, not exactly. His skin was admittedly covered in goose bumps but there was a fire roaring in his veins that warded off the worst of the cold.

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbled, taking a healthy swig out of the flagon of ale.

“The blanket is too small to do anything else anyway.” He had insisted on giving her the bigger blanket and he was, well, as the old woman had said, a strapping young man, not a slender lady.

No wonder the piece of cloth barely covered him.

“Come in the hay, next to me,” Jane suggested, reclining down. “’Tis warmer.”

Oh Lord. Didn’t she have any idea of the temptation she presented, half-naked and lying down thus? Evidently not.

“I cannot.”

“You must. I will not have you catching a chill just because you are trying to preserve my modesty.”

He was not, or at least, not only. He was trying to preserve his sanity—and her innocence.

If they lay side by side in their current state of undress, nestled in a warm cocoon, he would not be able to resist the urge to do what he’d been aching to do since he had set eyes on her.

This morning, by some miracle, he had been able to stop himself, but he was not sure he could be so sensible a second time.

But making love to her was the last thing he should do. Not only, as a lady and a virgin, was she utterly out of reach, but he didn’t want her to think he had helped her escape just so that he could take advantage of the gratitude she felt for him.

“Please, Griffin. You know I’m right. Besides, I’m cold as well.”

“Very well.” If she was cold, then there was nothing more to say. He would not have her catch a chill.

Holding the basket of food in front of him so as to hide the very noticeable bulge tenting the blanket, he walked over to her.

“I might need to get warm, but you need to eat,” he decreed, settling himself next to her. Perhaps eating would provide the distraction he needed.

“Yes. I am rather hungry,” she conceded, sitting up.

And little wonder. She had barely eaten in the last few days, too scared, he imagined, to have much appetite, and the slice of bread they had shared this morning had been too small to satisfy either of them.

In the basket, Griffin found a bowl of stewed turnips, an onion, some bread and the yellowest cheese he had ever seen.

Not quite the feasts Lady Jane Hunter would enjoy at Sheridan Manor, but it would have to do.

Taking the single knife, he cut himself a slice and handed her the rest of the chunk.

He consciously avoided looking at her while she ate, having already seen that the blanket revealed more of her creamy shoulders than was wise.

She didn’t seem to mind, but he did not need the extra provocation.

The temptation to rip the blanket off her gorgeous body was already gnawing at his insides.

All too soon the food was gone and there was nothing else to do but lie back down. Griffin took one last swig of ale for courage and gritted his teeth.

“Let us sleep now,” he said, burrowing into the hay.

Sleep.

Of course, that was what they should try to do but Griffin already knew it would be a long while before he could relax.

As he’d predicted—or rather, feared—Jane had nestled herself against his flank as if it were the natural thing to do.

She seemed to think that because he’d given his agreement to having her in his arms in the morning, it was now the way they would behave with one another from now on.

He was not sure it was a good idea, but what could he do?

He wanted her by his side, even if he should not.

Besides, he needed the warmth. It was winter, after all, and he was half naked under the paltry blanket.

“Griffin?”

Oh God, the hoarseness in that voice… He knew he would not like the question that was coming but he answered, nonetheless. “Yes?”

“That woman from your village who treated you so appallingly. Was she the only woman you’d ever bedded?”

This was not quite what he’d expected her to say, but the subject was still too intimate for him to be at ease. “No,” he said, clearing his throat. He was eight and twenty. He’d not bedded half the village, like some of his friends, but he was not without experience.

“Was she a virgin before…before you?”

“No, which is why I suspect she was already seeing the man she fled with.”

A silence. “Of course. I’m sorry, I should not have asked you this, only I’m?—”

“I do not bed virgins.”

There. It could not be clearer. He did not bed virgins, so he would not bed her, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much she begged. Would she accept the idea and put an end to her questioning?

She did not.

“You do not bed virgins, yet you bedded me?”

“I didn’t. I only gave you pleasure.”

Christ. A spark of need ignited his loins at the memory. Did they really have to discuss what they had done in the forest while they were half naked and lying in each other’s arms?

“Yes,” Jane sighed. “Pleasure such as I had never dreamed possible.” She pressed herself tighter against him.

Her hand, light and soft, landed on his chest. Griffin gritted his teeth.

He did not bed virgins, he repeated in his mind incessantly, in an attempt to ward off temptation, and he would most especially not bed this particular virgin, who was also a lady.

“And I want more of it. I want it all, all you can offer me.”

The hand snaked a path down his chest, heading to his groin. He grabbed her wrist before she could go past his navel and feel that his body was more than ready to give her what she wanted, even if his reason was urging him to do the right thing.

“Jane, I cannot. You’re a lady.”

“I’m a still a woman.” Oh, undeniably. The most beautiful, arousing woman he had ever seen, a woman he was aching to hold in his arms, a woman who was tempting him like no other ever had, making it impossible to hold on to his resolve.

“But I am a farmer’s son,” he added through gritted teeth. Couldn’t she see that was a problem? “And you’re a virgin.”

“Being a farmer’s son doesn’t make you less of a man than being a lady makes me less of a woman.

And you’re not just any man. You’re the man who helped me escape, who saved my father’s life, who protected me from Cynan.

” She paused and he heard her swallow. “Without you I wouldn’t still be a virgin, and you know it. ”

Griffin didn’t reply because she was right. Without him, she would have been raped by now. Encouraged by his silence, she leaned in toward him.