Free Rexanne Becnel by Thief of My Heart

of corn kernels in a little pile near a fencepost.
    “Come on, now. Eat up before the others find you out.” Then she moved back toward the other feeding birds, tossing the last remnants among them.
    For an instant she once again felt the dreamlike quality of the slow-dawning day. How many years ago had she first come to Sparrow Hill as a frightened, motherless little girl? Caring for the chickens had been the first chore assigned her, and for some silly, sentimental reason she’d never given it up.
    She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, remembering the shy ten-year-old she had once been. Sometimes she felt that she’d not changed or truly grown up at all. Certainly there were times she felt just as scared and unsure and ill at ease as she had then. But she had only to open her eyes to see that time had passed. She had changed.
    When Lacie did open her eyes, however, reality seemed truly remorseless, for it was the shadowy image of Dillon Lockwood that she first saw. He was leaning against a fencepost, smoking a thin-rolled cigarette, and watching her with his predatory stare. She was so taken by surprise that the grain bucket slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and rolled noisily among the chickens. Their startled cackling quickly died down, but Lacie’s racing heartbeat only increased its frenetic tempo.
    “Good morning,” he called softly. “Sleep well?”
    Lacie bristled. Even in making a casual greeting he obviously found it impossible to be pleasant. How did he think she’d slept after that dreadful scene in the bathing room?
    Gritting her teeth she bent down to retrieve the bucket. “I slept rather poorly, as you no doubt can guess. You, on the other hand, probably slept just fine, considering that creating havoc seems to be your greatest pleasure in life.”
    His slight smile, coupled with a prolonged perusal of her casual attire, only caused her temper to simmer even hotter.
    “Would it please you to know that I, too, tossed and turned upon my bed—”
    “Good!” she cut in emphatically. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned toward the gate.
    “But don’t you want to know why I could not sleep?”
    “No!” But she stopped short when he put his hand on the gate and opened it for her.
    He tossed down his cigarette then and looked steadily at her. “It was you,” he said, ignoring her words completely. “Every time I closed my eyes, I had a vision of your smooth pale shoulders and your lovely, delicate neck.”
    At Lacie’s gasp of surprise and her stunned expression, his grin widened. “It’s not often that I see a lady at her bath and then adjourn to my room all alone. May I say, Lacie, you made a most “delectable picture last night.”
    “You—you may say no such thing!” she stammered, truly mortified now. She tried to dart through the gate and get away from him, but his quick sidestep only brought them face to face.
    “Ah, but it’s true, Lacie. Even when I did manage to sleep, it was only to dream of you.”
    “Oh, you must be quite mad to say such things!”
    “Is it mad to speak the truth? I think not. You know, if you would just be honest with me, we would get along so much better.” His eyes lowered from her angry eyes to her shocked, rounded lips.
    “I don’t want to get along with you,” she snapped, even as a flush began to color her cheeks. “All I want is for you to leave this place.”
    “I’m not leaving here until I get what I want,” he said quietly as his expression grew more serious.
    “You’ll never prove I’m not Frederick’s widow. Why don’t you just give up now and save yourself a lot of trouble!”
    “Ah, but it’s really no trouble.” So saying, he took a thin wisp of her long dark hair and wound it about his finger, all the while staring deeply into her eyes. “I think I shall enjoy every minute of it.”
    Lacie’s stomach tightened at that, and her heart seemed almost to stop in her chest. What did he mean?
    But even