They stopped before a dark wood door with the brass number fourteen on it.
“Here we are,” Mrs. Tibbs said. “Now, before you go in, I know you’re engaged, but I wasn’t sure what sleeping arrangements you would prefer. This is your room, but there is a door that connects to your fiancé’s bedroom. It has a lock on your side, so if you wish for privacy tonight, you may have it. Take a moment to freshen up, then tell Garret and Edward dinner is ready whenever they are. They should be back from their soaks in the men’s bathing area by now, though they were with Harold, and Lord knows that man can talk.”
Rowan bit her cheek to keep from giggling, because Mrs. Tibbs hadn’t stopped talking since they’d met. “Thank you. I’ll let them know.”
5
EDWARD
Edward was just pulling up the straps of his suspenders when a knock came from the door to the room he shared with Garret. He would have preferred to be in Rowan’s room with her but thought that Dr. Tibbs was right—she could probably use a good night’s sleep and some privacy. They’d explained the situation to their old friend and mentor as they’d soaked in the tubs, and Garret had finally been able to have his pipe.
Now, feeling like a new man with the dirt of the road washed off him and a fresh shave, he crossed the smooth, dark wood floor of their room and opened the door, expecting it to be the maid.
But it wasn’t the maid standing in the hallway.
It was Cassandra Stein, a local widow and one of the women Edward and Garret would ‘visit’ with when they were in Dove Springs.
“Hello, Edward,” Cassandra said in her low, sultry voice. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t know if that would be—” He grunted as she pushed past him, her floral perfume filling the air.
Dressed in a purple gown that would be more suitable for dinner in the big city than visiting a friend, Cassandra stopped in the middle of the room and practically posed for him. She was a beautiful woman, a few years older than himself and Garret, but lovely with her deep red hair and wide green eyes. For the past few years, they’d carried on a casual dalliance with the wealthy widow. It was a friendly relationship, neither party wanting anything more than someone to scratch an itch and share a glass of bourbon. But their visits had stopped recently when she began to more than casually hint she was on the hunt for her next husband. Or, in this case, husbands.
Placing her hands on her curvy hips, she slowly scanned the room then arched a brow. “Well, I hear congratulations is in order. Where is your fiancée? I’d love to meet her.”
Despite her casual tone and small smile, he could see the anger snapping in her eyes and the rigid way she held herself.
“Thank you, but I’m afraid Rowan isn’t available right now.”
Her upper lip curled and jealousy practically radiated from her like heat from a stove. He noticed that she’d painted her lips with a stain that made them seem fuller than usual and had applied some cosmetics to her eyes as well. He didn’t know much about women, but he was quite sure Cassandra wasn’t wearing makeup–she wore war paint. She was a proud woman, and it no doubt pricked her fragile pride to know the men she’d been perusing had chosen another. Especially since Cassandra was rather spoiled and expected men to fall at her feet.
“Cassandra,” he said in a low voice, not wanting to hurt her but at the same time wanting her out of his room, “we can discuss this later. I need to get ready for dinner.”
Changing tactics, she let the fox fur stole she’d had wrapped around her shoulders fall away, revealing an impressive amount of cleavage lifted for maximum effect. “Edward, please don’t be so cold. I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends, but nothing more,” he said firmly as he turned his back on her, reaching for his jacket.
“Edward,” she purred from right behind him and he turned with a start. “It doesn’t have to be this way. You aren’t married yet. Don’t you remember how good things can be between us?”
She wrapped her arms around him and leaned up on her tiptoes, her mouth inches from his as he backed into the wall, trying to get away from her.
“Woman,” he growled, “I may not be married yet, but my heart belongs to Rowan.”
“What about your cock?” Cassandra bared her teeth at him as he caught her hands in his own, keeping her from reaching between his legs. “She’ll never be able to satisfy you like I can.”
“Enough,” he roared as he pushed Cassandra away. “I want you out of my room, now.”
Sprawled on the floor, Candance instead shocked the hell out of him by going on her hands and knees and crawling over to him. “Just let me taste you one more time, Edward. You know how good I am at pleasing you with my mouth.”
As he took another step back, he froze when he heard Rowan say in a low, pissed voice, “If you don’t get your diseased whore carcass out of my fiancés room in ten seconds, I’m going to drag you out by your badly dyed hair.”
Edward’s mouth practically hit his chest when he turned and saw Rowan, cleaned up and wearing a decent fitting gown, for the
