She sat next to him but far enough away so that their bodies did not touch. “I have been trying my very hardest not to be bold, to be safe and practical so that I do not hurt those I love. Or myself.”
“And how is that going?”
“Rotten. Do you know, I used to think Christiana the boldest woman of my acquaintance? She knows what she wants and goes after it, damn everyone else. But now I think maybe she’s a coward, running from the hardest things to do.”
“And those hardest things are?”
“Loving.”
His heart grew a size or two, creating a heavy pressure in his chest that spoke of hope, not dread. He reached across the space between them and touched her thigh with his little finger. A small gesture, but as Jane was discovering, it seemed, sometimes daring gestures were found in unexpected places.
She sighed. “Perhaps running from love is not practical. It’s just cowardice. And stupid.”
He laughed, a lighthearted bark that lifted his soul. “I told you never to refer to yourself as so, my Jane.”
She flopped back onto the bed. “I tire of lessons. I’ve never been a studious girl. The adages and warnings, examples and formulas muddle in my mind.”
George stood. “Well. Then perhaps we should play instead of study.” He reclined beside her and had her in his arms in less time than it took to inhale the air between them. “But first, one quick, simple lesson. One man and one woman on one bed.”
Her eyes flickered with a wary glare in shadows and firelight.
He stroked the curve of her cheek. “Have you affirmed anything with Newburton yet?”
A minute shake of her head was all he needed.
“Forget lessons,” he said. “You do not need them. Let me be more direct.”
A minute nod, her expression somber.
“I know a game we can both win. And you are in need of a victory this evening. But you must be daring.” No gentleman would suggest what he was about to suggest to a lady. The gentlemanly part of George that knew this to be true wailed out to stop this very instant.You veritable cad.
Hope did odd things to a man, though.
“I am going to take you to my bed. Are youthatdaring?”
She lifted her chin high. “Yes.”
That yes—that was why he’d silenced the gentleman. Because the cad could get what the gentleman wanted most of all—the word yes from Jane’s lips. He dipped his head and outlined the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue, slowly curving from top to bottom. Then he placed a kiss on her neck behind her ear.
A small sound escaped her. She pressed her belly and chest and hips against his own. Her hands fisted in his hair. She dragged him until their lips met. She took his bottom lip between her teeth, gently, firmly.
And he lost control. Ha! As if that had not happened as soon as she’d entered the room. He rolled until he had her under him.
Where she belonged.
Jane’s arms never left his neck, and her lips never left his. She stroked her tongue into his mouth and drank her fill of him. Her fingers ripped and pushed at his jacket. She knew not what she did, but she quite clearly knew what she wanted.
And why should he not give it to her? He stood and shrugged out of his jacket with urgent movements. She devoured him with hungry eyes, and as soon as he whipped his shirt over his head, she lunged off the bed and at him, her skirts hitching high as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
“Hellion.” He laughed, turned, and sat on the bed, taking her with him. He breathed kisses into the slope where her neck met her shoulder. “Damnation, Jane. Your touch burns.”
“I need you. You stayed away from me all night long, when all I wanted was for you to touch me.”
He rolled her onto the bed and covered her body with his. She was an innocent. But he needed her, too. He would deny neither of them.
* * *
Why had Jane been so scared to follow her heart where it clearly wished to go? Fool brain. Silly fears. Brave heart. It knew best what she needed, wanted—the man above her, around her, everywhere.
