Running into Temptation (Bancrofts of Barton Park) (5 page)

Finally, he pinned the man to the ground. Sweat stung at his eyes and in his cuts, but a wave of victory washed over him. The man gave a stifled sob as he stared up at Philip.

“Do it,” he sniffled, all his bravado gone.

Philip laughed, and raised his fist to deliver the coup de grâce. Suddenly, a soft hand caught his, holding him still.

“No, Philip, please,” Melanie said gently. “No more of this.”

Philip’s anger faded as suddenly as it had come over him, and he felt weary. He looked up at his wife, shocked to see tears in her beautiful eyes. Tears—for the man who had hurt her? The coward Philip now held with his fists?

“Melanie…”

She shook her head. “I can’t bear to see you hurt anymore, Philip. Please—he is beaten now. He won’t bother us any longer. Let’s go home. Let me take care of you. That’s all I want now.”

Philip couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, what he saw in her eyes. She cared about
him?
No one had done such a thing before. No one had ever cared if he was beaten to a pulp or not.

Certainly no one had ever wanted to take him home.

“Yes,” he said, hauling himself to his feet. Melanie slid her arm around his waist, not even looking at the man who now sobbed on the ground. “Let’s go home.”

“Sit here now, Philip,” Melanie said soothingly. She slid her husband’s arm from around her shoulders and helped him sit down on the rickety wooden chair by the fire in their room at the inn. “Whatever possessed you to do such a thing? Brawling in a field with Captain Whitney! What if your uncle heard of it? He already thinks you are a great scoundrel.”

“And so I am. This just proves it.”

Melanie shook her head, and turned away to pour out water into the basin and find some clean rags. Once her back was to him, she allowed her stern expression to slip into the tiniest of smiles. When she had seen Philip coming toward her, she’d felt such happiness and relief as she had never known before. She was no longer alone.

“He tried to hurt you, Mel,” Philip said, his voice hard, touched with ice. “He deserved far worse than the thrashing he got.”

“Perhaps so. But I don’t think he’ll be bothering us again.”Melanie turned back to him, the damp cloth in her hand. She leaned over him to carefully dab at the cut over his eye. It all seemed too good to be true for a girl like her, to have a knight in shining armor come to her rescue. “But did you not think perhaps I was there of my own accord? After all, I told you I once fancied myself in love with that villain.”

Something flickered in Philip’s eyes, and he glanced away from her. Melanie felt her heart sink, leaving her cold. She went on cleaning his cuts and bruises, but all she wanted to do was turn away and cry. Suddenly she felt even more alone than she had before. It was like being shown a beautiful jewel, told it could be hers, then having it snatched away.

Philip grabbed her hand and held onto it tightly, not letting her pull away. “Mel, look at me.”

She reluctantly dragged her gaze up to meet his. He looked right at her now, his expression fierce. “Melanie, I did think for a moment, when I first saw you in his arms, that you had gone to him. That you had left me. After all, I have never done anything good enough to deserve you. To deserve what we have found here together.”

Melanie felt the tiniest touch of the most reluctant hope, deep down inside of her. “Wh-what have we found here?”

He looked up at her steadily, never wavering, so serious. “Do we not understand each other? In a way no one else has ever understood either of us? I’ve never had a home, Mel, not really. But last night, here in this shabby little room, I felt I could never be anywhere else. And I thought—hoped—you felt the same.”

“Oh, Philip, I did! I do,” Melanie cried, her hope bursting free. “I never knew anyone like you. So full of adventure and fun, so complicated and fascinating.”

He grinned up at her, wincing through his bruises. It was the loveliest smile she had ever seen. “And handsome, too?”

“Gloriously handsome.”Melanie gently kissed his cheek. “I never thought there could be anyone like you in the world, either. I felt ill when Captain Whitney grabbed me, so scared. But not as scared as I was thinking you would imagine I went to him.”

“My darling.” Philip drew her down onto his lap, and she buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled of sunlight and starch, sweet, faint traces of cologne—and of his own delicious self. She had never felt safer. He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “Melanie,” he said, “after last night, I never should have had a second’s doubt. When I heard you cry out—I was so furious, I couldn’t think at all. I only knew I had to get you away from him. It was the first time I had ever thought of someone above myself.”

“And it was the first time I had not felt alone,” she whispered. She curled her hand into his shirt and held on as if she would never let go.

“I know I am a terrible wager as a husband,” he said. “We will have to beg my uncle for a home, and I have no great riches to give you. But I promise, Melanie, you will never be alone again.”

Never be alone again
. She had never heard sweeter words, never been so wonderfully happy. “And I promise
you
will never be alone, either. We have each other now. Even if we have to make our home in this room, it won’t matter. We can finally be happy.”

“Yes,” he answered, turning her face up to his. She glimpsed his tender smile just before he kissed her. His lips touched hers as if she was the most delicate, precious thing in all the world, and she knew that at last she truly could belong somewhere. “We can finally be happy….”

Macintosh House, six years later

“Mama! Hurry up! The carriage will leave without us.”

Melanie looked up from the piles of luggage in the foyer of their home, an ancient stone pile high in the Scottish hills. Her son, Peter, stood in the doorway, waving at her. She laughed at the eagerness on his handsome little face.

“It can’t leave without us, my darling,” she said. “It’s
our
carriage. And Italy will certainly be waiting for us no matter how long it takes us to get there.”

“But I want to get there
soon,
” he answered, his bright blue eyes glowing just like his father’s did at the prospect of an adventure. “I don’t even remember the last time we were there.”

“That’s because you were barely out of leading strings. You nearly did yourself an injury running about the ruins at Pompeii!” Melanie said, still smiling. Peter was completely bold and unstoppable, just like his father. “And Louisa wasn’t even born yet. It will be her very first chance to see Rome.”

She picked up her little cherub from where she crawled on the marble floor. Melanie’s little blond-curled angel. She kissed Louisa’s plump, pink cheek. The baby laughed and patted Melanie’s neck.

“Take your sister to nanny, darling, and tell her we will be ready to leave very soon,” Melanie said, giving Louisa’s hand to Peter. “There just might be some new books about pirates in the carriage….”

“Pirates!” Peter cried. Next to travel, high-sea skullduggery was his favorite thing. He took his sister’s hand and gently helped her toddle out the door. “Just wait until I tell you about Blackbeard, Lou…”

Melanie smiled as she finished checking over the trunks. Sometimes she could not quite believe this was
her
life. The wild leap she had taken into the unknown when she ran away with Philip Carrington had led her to so much more than she could ever have imagined.

Uncle Macintosh, beneath his Scots bluster, had proved to be quite a darling. An old man just as roguish as his nephew in his youth, and full of grand tales. Melanie had become quite fond of him, and missed him when he’d passed away two years before and Macintosh House became their home.

Not that they were always there. In the cold, windy winters, they went to Italy and Greece and Switzerland, exploring new places, meeting new people. Building their little family. Melanie had to smile when she thought of it all. It was riches beyond what she ever thought she could deserve.

“And what are you smiling about, my pretty wife?” Philip said, sneaking up behind her. He drew her close to him and pressed a soft kiss to her neck.

Melanie laughed, and leaned into him. “Peter and his pirates, Louisa walking now. And envisioning Italy. The sun, the blue sky…”

“The long, warm nights?” he whispered.

“Definitely those. Most of all.”She turned in his arms and looped her arms around his neck as she looked up into his eyes. How she loved him! How she treasured what they had built together, against all odds. “Oh, yes. The nights above all else.”

Amanda McCabe
wrote her first romance at the age of sixteen—a vast epic, starring all her friends as the characters, written secretly during algebra class.

She’s never since used algebra, but her books have been nominated for many awards, including a RITA® Award, an
RT Book Reviews
Reviewers’ Choice Award, a Booksellers Best Award, a National Readers’ Choice Award and a Holt Medallion. She lives in Oklahoma with a menagerie of two cats, a pug and a bossy miniature poodle, and loves dance classes, collecting cheesy travel souvenirs and watching the Food Network—even though she doesn’t cook. 

Visit her at
www.ammandamccabe.com
and
www.riskyregencies.com
.

ISBN-13: 9781460329726

RUNNING INTO TEMPTATION

Copyright © 2014 by Ammanda McCabe

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