Page 38 of Lord Garson's Bride
Perhaps because she was enjoying that he took the time to woo her. Nobody in her life had devoted this amount of attention to her. She discovered she rather liked it.
Over the last few days, Hugh looked at her like a starving man eyed a loaf of bread. Oh, what indecent feelings those hard, intent eyes stirred. After last night’s kiss, and today when he’d taken her arm to help her over a fallen stone or across a slippery patch of grass, she’d felt his tension. She’d quivered with wicked anticipation and wondered if he might break his promise to wait.
“What are you thinking about, Jane?” Hugh asked softly.
She emerged from her confused thoughts to find him studying her. That fierce brown stare pierced her like an arrow. An arrow aimed at all her tender, female places.
She wanted to say “you,” but her courage failed. Although what she said instead was probably worse. “Kisses.”
“Mine, I hope.”
She blushed, but couldn’t look away. “Who else’s?”
“Are you still frightened, Jane?”
Yes. No.
Yes.
“You’ve been very patient.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” His gaze seemed to drink in every detail of her face. It was a heady experience. One she feared she could come to crave, the way an opium eater craved his poison.
Yes, she was still afraid. But she hurtled toward a point where fear ceased to matter.
“I would.”
A silence fell, then he spoke in a considering tone that made every nerve in her body zing with anticipation. “You know, Salisbury is more than an hour away, and we have privacy allthe way. This might be the ideal opportunity to further your education.”
Just like that, a throbbing heat set up between her legs. Dear Lord have mercy, and so far all he’d done was hold her hand, even if he did speak sin. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“In part. You shy away because a man’s touch is unfamiliar.”
“Becoming less so,” she said drily.
They’d been married four days, and she was still a virgin. She found that almost impossible to credit. Her havering must exasperate Hugh. Although right now he looked interested rather than annoyed. A patient man indeed.
“I’m pleased to hear it.” He settled into his corner and sent his long legs in their buff breeches sprawling diagonally across the well between the seats. She’d never been so conscious of another person’s physical presence.
“You…haven’t touched me all day.”
His gaze turned smoldering. “Yes, I have.”
Yes, he had. “You know what I mean.”
He didn’t smile. “Do you want me to touch you, Jane?”
Her cheeks heated. “Yes.”
The word emerged as a thread of sound, but the moment he heard it, he went on the alert, all languor abandoned. “I’m delighted. Because I want to touch you.”
He didn’t mean holding her hand, either. Excitement swelled in her core at the thought of those big hands on her breasts. Her nipples tightened, and her soft exhalation was audible even over the creaking coach.
“What shall I do?” she asked.
He released her hand and laid his arm along the back of the seat. “Take off your pelisse. I’ll keep you warm.”
Right now, the rush of blood in her veins was doing that more than adequately. Under his unwavering gaze and with hardlyany embarrassing fumbling, she released the buttons on her winter coat and slid it off.
