fire that burns between us.’
She could not deny her awareness of him, but she was startled by his stark admission that he desired her. He cupped her face in his hands and she watched, her heart hammering, as he lowered his head once more. Her lips parted involuntarily in readiness for him to kiss her again, but a sudden memory forced its way into her head and with a cry she pulled away from him.
‘The dog! I found a dog caught in a trap,’ she explained when he stared at her uncomprehendingly. ‘We have to set it free or it will die. Please.’ She caught hold of his arm. ‘Will you come?’
‘Where?’ Cesario demanded tersely, fighting the temptation to snatch her back into his arms and finish what they had started, here and now on the sodden grass. He had never felt such a primitive urgency to possess a woman, but this woman with her fey beauty and slanting green eyes had surely cast a spell on him, he thought self-derisively.
‘In the woods at the edge of the field.’ Feeling desperately guilty that she had forgotten about the injured dog during those moments when she had been in Cesario’s arms, Beth turned and started to run. She had only gone a short distance when he came alongside her, sitting astride his horse.
‘Give me your hand,’ he ordered. Reaching down, he ignored her shocked gasp and lifted her up onto the saddle in front of him as easily as if she weighed nothing. ‘Show me where to go.’
Beth disliked heights, and a cautious glance over the horse’s head revealed that the ground was a long way down.
‘You’re safe. I won’t let you fall.’ Cesario’s deep voice sounded close to her ear. And, strangely, she did feel safe with her back pressed against his chest and his arms on either side of her as he flicked the reins and urged the horse into a gallop.
‘DO YOU think you can force the trap open with something—maybe a stick or tree branch?’ Beth asked Cesario anxiously as he knelt by the injured dog.
‘It should release if I step on the spring mechanism,’ he told her, after studying the contraption for a few minutes. ‘I imagine a shepherd has had a problem with foxes worrying his sheep and has set traps to try and protect his flock. Move away. An injured animal can behave unpredictably and the dog might turn on you.’
She looked into the dog’s pained eyes. ‘I don’t think he’ll bite me,’ she said softly. As she knelt down she heard a ripping sound, and gave a rueful sigh when she saw that her skirt had snagged on a bramble. ‘Oh, well—like all my clothes it only cost a few pounds from a charity shop.’
‘I imagine the dress you were wearing last night cost considerably more than a few pounds,’ Cesario said dryly.
‘Actually, no. That dress is my best bargain find, and I was pleased that the money I paid for it went to a charity supporting multiple sclerosis sufferers, because my mother had the illness for many years and eventually lost her life to it.’
With her eyes focused on the dog, Beth did not see the intent glance Cesario gave her. He stepped on the spring and the trap jaws shot apart, releasing its victim. ‘Careful,’ he warned, when she immediately lifted the dog up, but the animal was clearly grateful to be free and lay quiet and utterly trusting in Beth’s arms.
‘Its leg is cut,’ she noted worriedly, seeing blood on the dog.
‘A flesh wound.’ Cesario gave the animal a cursory inspection. ‘Set it down and I expect it will find its way back to its owner.’
He frowned when Beth turned her almond-shaped eyes on him and gave him a look that seemed to imply he was as callous as a mass-murderer.
‘I’m not going to abandon the poor creature—although I suspect its owner might have done,’ she said regretfully. ‘It looks half starved.’
‘It is a he.’ Cesario studied the dog’s matted coat. ‘And he’s certainly not the most attractive dog I’ve ever seen.’
‘Just because he isn’t beautiful is no reason not to give him a home,’ Beth said fiercely, thinking of all the times she had been disappointed not to have been chosen by foster parents when she had lived in the children’s home. ‘Please can we take him back to the castle? I’m sure Filomena will allow him to stay in the kitchens—at least until his leg is healed. I’ll pay for his food.’
Cesario muttered a curse beneath his breath and strode over to his horse. For all her elfin fragility Beth was incredibly determined—and deeply compassionate, he brooded as he watched her tenderly stroke the ugly dog.
‘We need to get out of the rain before we drown,’ he growled. Not giving her the chance to argue, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her and the dog up onto the saddle. She was soaked to the skin and shivering. ‘Take these for a second,’ he ordered, dropping the reins into her hand while he shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her shoulders.
The leather coat still retained the heat from Cesario’s body, and the lingering male scent of him teased Beth’s senses. ‘I’m already wet. It doesn’t make sense for you to get soaked too,’ she mumbled, but received an impatient look.
‘In the space of forty-eight hours you’ve turned my life upside down and landed me with a baby and a flea-bitten mutt. The last thing I need now is for you to catch pneumonia,’ Cesario told her grimly before he hooked his foot in the stirrup and swung himself up onto the horse’s back behind her.
When they reached the castle ten minutes later, Cesario rode round to the stables, dismounted and lifted Beth down, gritting his teeth when her slender body briefly brushed against him. He bitterly resented his overwhelming awareness of her. Clearly he’d gone too long without sex, he thought sardonically. In Rome there were a number of women he could call—casual mistresses who understood he was not in the market for commitment and who would be happy to satisfy his libido knowing that he would be a generous lover in return.
Taking the dog, he strode into an empty horse box and set it down in the straw. The cut on its leg was not too deep, and while he cleaned the wound Beth knelt beside him and stroked the animal’s head to keep it calm.
‘Do you think he’ll be okay? Poor creature. He must have been so frightened in the trap,’ she said softly.
Her innate gentleness touched something deep inside Cesario. He stared at her pale fingers as she fondled the dog’s ears and imagined her touching him, caressing his naked flesh and encircling his manhood with those delicate white hands. Her hair smelled of rain and the faint scent of lemons. His eyes were drawn lower, and through her wet blouse he could see the outline of her dusky pink nipples.
He swallowed and said roughly, ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ll tell the groom to give him plenty of food.’
‘Thank you.’ Her shy smile caused a cramping sensation in Cesario’s gut. But then her expression became anxious. ‘I must get back to Sophie. I’ve been out for ages and she’s bound to be awake by now.’
‘She was crying before I came to look for you. But after I fed her she settled and seemed happy enough when I left her with Filomena,’ Cesario told her.
‘You fed her?’ Beth chewed on her lip. ‘Was she all right? I mean, she’s only used to me, and.’
‘She didn’t choke when I gave her a bottle of formula, if that’s what you mean,’ Cesario said dryly. ‘I’m quite capable of caring for a baby. I used to regularly feed my son.’
‘You must miss your little boy.’
He stiffened at Beth’s gentle comment. ‘I think of him every day,’ he admitted roughly.
To his relief she did not offer the unhelpful platitude that time was a great healer, as so many people did when they learned that he had lost a child. Instead, she tentatively reached out and placed her