Read Taming Her Gypsy Lover for Free Online Page B

and left her alone in the tent.

CHAPTER SIX
    Chal went to the stream to get fresh water, stripped off shoes and shirt and waded into the shallows to splash some temperance into his hot blood.
    She had been right, though he did not want to admit it. A mirror was a useful item and he had been frustrated by the lack of one each time he shaved. It had been no big thing to barter for one.
    He had seen her leave the tent as he’d talked with another Rom by the fire, and now Chal was dawdling in the water until he was sure she’d returned to where he’d left her, not wishing to show the gadji that she had any control over his comings and goings. He leaned forward and dunked his head below the surface, loving the icy chill of it. He rose, shaking droplets from his skin and hair, and thanked God that his response to her lovemaking had been in Romany so that she could not understand it. In his own tongue, he had told her too much of the truth: that he loved her and wanted her. He had begged her not to stop, never to leave. And when she had finished with him, the emptiness that he’d carried with him for almost a year had been filled with thoughts of their future.
    And all this after little more than a day together. He was allowing himself to want too much, and too feel too deeply for a woman who had no intention of staying with him. He had not realized how alone he had been, since Bella had died. Perhaps, if he had availed himself of a whore, this fire in him would not be raging so now.
    Or it could have been just the same. For he suspected there was no other woman in the world so perfect for him as Emma Hammond, nor would she find a better man than him. She’d blossomed like a rose the further he took her from London. She belonged in the country, and on the open road, wild and reckless, and happy. And he needed a mother for his children, and someone to laugh and talk with, to make the hours pass.
    The thing she had done just now, in the tent, had driven him near to madness. And in the storm. And in the garden. He needed more of that as well.
    Chal shook off the last of the water, pulled the shirt back over his head and filled the bucket he’d brought with him. Then he walked back to his tent, keeping an even pace so as not to spill the water.
    When he drew back the flap, Emma looked up at him from where she sat upon the bed. She had been to the field and gathered flowers. Daisies and buttercups and cornflowers sprinkled her skirt, as she twined the stems to make a garland, and draped it at the head of the bed they would share. “You do not mind this, do you?”
    His throat tightened. “No. It is fine.”
    “Because I thought it would look rather cheerful.” She looked down at the flowers in her hands.
    “And I brought you your mirror.” He set the bucket at the doorway of the tent, and pulled the small piece of glass from his pocket. “It is not much, of course. But all that could be had in this camp. Perhaps when we are passing through the next town…”
    “I am sure it will be fine,” she answered. “I do not need much.”
    “And it is yours,” he reminded her. “You can take it with you.”
    “Take it?” She seemed surprised.
    Why had he mentioned parting? It was not as if he wished to think on it. “When we arrive in Yorkshire. I assumed you had some plan, once we find the boy.”
    She frowned down at the flowers. “I do not know. At one time, I had thought to travel back to London, so that Amanda could say her farewell.” Emma looked up at him and then down again. “But now that I have met you and your people?” She shrugged. “I think it would be better if he remained with you. I will write to his mother. To Amanda,” she corrected, acknowledging the difference. “And explain to her.”
    It was all of surprisingly little interest to him. “But what do you mean to do with yourself?”
    She sighed. “I am not sure. I suppose I shall sell the jewels and set up housekeeping somewhere. If I live