He stepped toward Marco, compelling the woman to follow him, leading her like a colt. He held out the cut end of the rope, and Marco took it as if in a dream. The woman stood in front of him, her breast exposed, her thighs almost completely bare. He held her as surely as he might hold a horse he meant to tame.

He handed the lantern back to Enrico, placed the coil of rope on the ground and shrugged out of his jacket. “Put this around you.”

For a moment he thought she would run. He saw the movement as she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, but Enrico took a step to block the opening to the stall and she fell back.

Without a word, she took his coat and slipped her arms in the sleeves. It barely covered her generous breasts, but at least that delicious nipple was out of sight of the peasant’s eyes.

Enrico snickered. “She’ll need more than that to cover her like a decent woman. With respect, dottore,” he added as Marco fixed him with a glare.

“Of course.” Marco turned to the woman again. She stood unwavering now on her two feet, her chin up and her mouth firm. “Please follow me, signorina.”

Praying she would follow and not give Enrico the excuse to manhandle her again, Marco turned and led the way from the cow stall. At the door to the shed he stood aside for her to pass. She had gathered the trailing rope over her arm and carried it like the train of a ball gown. She brushed past him like a duchess and waited for him to guide her across the farmyard as if he would lead her into dinner in a palace.

Without a word he swept her up into his arms.

He expected her to resist and tightened his grip as she tensed against him. “Put me down. I can walk.” Her fist thumped against his shoulder.

“You would not wish to walk on the muck, signorina. Underneath there are tiny stones that will hurt your feet. Believe me, after two paces you would beg me to carry you again.”