Free Sarah's Sin by Tami Hoag Page B

slowly as she could, lingering over each task. And when they were all accomplished, she would think up some more. She would invent reasons to stay in town until she absolutely had to return to the inn in order to greet the weekend guests. She would be safe then, surrounded by nosy, demanding tourists. She would cocoon herself with their presence and shut out Matt Thorne as much as she could. Maybe by doing all that she would be able to forget about how wonderfully male he looked and how her body had never experienced any kind of sexual satisfaction.
    She slipped the horses s bridle on and led him out into the yard where her buggy was parked. Otis demonstrated his lack of enthusiasm for his work by moving as slowly as he could, stretching out his long neck as he was pulled along, backing up between the shafts of the buggy one plodding step at a time. Sarah tried to rush him, but in a contest between a hundred-and-twenty-pound woman and a thousand-pound horse there was likely to be only one outcome. She hurried where she could, fastening the tugs and buckling the back bands with the speed acquired through hundreds of harnessings. The closer she came to finishing and the nearer she felt to freedom,the faster she moved. Just another two minutes and she would be on the road, alone with her confounded lust, leaving Matt Thorne behind to think what he would.
    He probably thought she was a fool. A foolish, prudish, backward yokel. He was probably amused by her lack of sophistication. Heaven knew, he no doubt had a flock of slick, polished city women waiting for him back in Minneapolis, none of whom would run away from seeing him naked.
    “I wouldn't have either,” she muttered. “Except that …”
    Except what? She had a duty to her family and her faith? No, that wasn't what had made her run.
    “Mind if I tag along?”
    Sarah's hands stilled on the harness. She barely resisted the urge to close her eyes and fall against Otis in a swoon of despair. Another two minutes and she would have been gone. Just two more minutes.
    “Does groaning between your teeth that way mean yes in Amish?”
    She turned and scowled at Matt, half-expecting to see him standing there with a blush-pink towel swathing his hips. He was dressed. Actually, he looked more respectable than she'd ever seen him. He wore baggy tweed trousers, a blue shirt, and a black leather jacket to cut the chill of the Octobermorning. His hair was combed and still damp from a washing. The gleam in his dark eyes was pure mischief.
    “You ought to be in bed.”
    Matt grinned and moved a step closer. “You certainly have a burning desire to see me between the sheets, Blue Eyes. I would have been more than willing to discuss the issue with you a while ago, but since I've gone to all the trouble of putting on clothes …”
    “You're shameless,” Sarah grumbled, snapping a rein to her gelding's bit.
    “I hate to be immodest,” Matt said, “but I don't think I have anything to be ashamed of. Do you?”
    The pink crept back into her cheeks as the picture of him flashed again in her mind. He was a beautifully made man. He certainly didn't have anything to be ashamed of.
    “Come on, sweetheart,” he said cajolingly, stepping a little closer and gently taking hold of her arm. He turned her toward him, but she refused to look at him. “You were a married lady. You've seen a naked man before.”
    “That was different.” Lord, please don't let him ask how different, she thought. As different as day and night. She had scarcely seen Samuel completely undressed and when she had, she hadn't been inspired to feel the wild emotions that had careened around inside her when she'd seen Matt. Guilt pressed down onher, but she shooed it away. It wasn't her fault Samuel had been slight of build and Matt Thorne was … not.
    “I&m sorry I laughed,' Matt whispered, his breath fanning her ear, his voice an almosttangible caress to her senses. His fingers were gentle on her arm, stroking