with herself for being so concerned. What business was it of hers what had happened to him?
‘Well?’ Daniel prompted, while she battled with her wayward emotions, and stared at him in confusion. ‘The broth,’ he reminded her. ‘Would you like some? Mrs Davies has sent some of her home-made bread as well. I’ve got an Aga here in the kitchen and I’ve been trying my hand at baking some, but I must add as yet I haven’t had any success.’
He’d been trying his hand at baking bread. Angelica gulped as she stared at him.
‘We have some bad storms on this coast,’ he told her wryly. ‘It’s possible to be cut off here, even from the farm, for days at a time. Self-sufficiency here isn’t an affectation, it’s a necessity, and if the power goes off—which it can do—the Aga is the only source of heat.
‘Your friend would be as well to get one installed in his place, especially if he intends to use it during the winter.’
‘I’ll tell him,’Angelica responded. ‘And, yes, I would like some broth please.’
‘Good. In that case, I think we’ll get you downstairs, and just see how strong you do feel once you’re on your feet.’
At the same moment as Angelica swung her feet to the floor, he walked towards her, closing the gap between them and picking her up before she could draw breath to protest.
His shirt rode up to reveal the pale slenderness of her thighs, and, although she knew he had carried her like this on a dozen or more previous occasions, now that she was fully conscious she was acutely aware of the intimacy of his hold, of the strength and the heat radiating from his flesh where it touched her, of the way she had to lean against him so that her head was tucked into his shoulder, her breast pushing softly against his chest, one arm underneath her as he supported her, the other holding her tightly, so that she had no alternative but to lock her own arms around his neck even while she protested.
‘Please—I can walk.’
‘You mean you think you can,’ he derided her. ‘The last thing we need now is you collapsing and falling downstairs. Let’s see how you go on when you’re downstairs before we get too adventurous, shall we?’
He really was the limit, Angelica decided wrathfully. Telling her what she could and could not do. Laying down the law, when she was perfectly capable of making her own decisions. If it weren’t for the fact that she owed him so much, she would have told him in no uncertain terms that no one dictated to her, that no man was allowed to dominate her life…Not any more. She had learned the dangers of becoming too dependent on a man the hard way, and it was a lesson she intended to keep firmly to the forefront of her mind.
The cottage’s stairs were very narrow and Angelica found she was instinctively holding her breath, her arms tightening as Daniel carried her down them.
‘It’s all right,’ he assured her. ‘I won’t drop you. If I haven’t dropped you yet, I don’t think you need worry that I’m going to do so now.’
For some reason his words, which she suspected were intended to be reassuring, conjured up such images of intimacy within her too imaginative brain that she found herself trying desperately to arch her body away from him. His heartbeat was faintly erratic as though he was in fact finding her heavier than he pretended.
He might have carried her like this before, but then she had been in no state to register such things as the powerful contraction of his muscles, the warmth of his breath against her skin, the heat of his body, the scent of it stimulating her senses in a way she had never known before, not even with Giles.
To her anguished chagrin, she could actually feel her body reacting to his proximity in a way that made her desperately anxious to be out of his arms.
What was the matter with her? After Giles, she had told herself that never, ever again would she allow herself to be emotionally and sexually involved with a man. It was too dangerous—too painful.
Giles had made her all too acutely aware of how dangerous it was to allow herself to love. She was lucky she had discovered the truth about him before she had committed herself too deeply. As it was she had been hurt, but thankfully not fatally, and with hindsight she could see that her pride had been more bruised than her heart.
Even so it had been a salutary lesson, and one which had made sharply clear to her the dangers of allowing the vulnerable feminine need within her to take control of her life.
‘There,’ Daniel told her when they reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘I told you you’d be quite safe.’
Quite safe. Odd how the words caused a tiny pulse to jump in her throat and her heart to thud warningly.
‘If you don’t mind, we’ll eat in the kitchen. I tend to live in there.’
He nudged open the door with his foot and carried her into the warm, food-scented room, placing her carefully into a comfortable Windsor chair next to the Aga.
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