Page 50 of Calling on the Matchmaker
“Riley Rafferty, ’tis none of your business. But if you must know, then no, I’ve never fancied myself to be in love with any man.”
“Good.”
She focused on the ice and the path they were taking. But the hint of a smile was back in her expression. The hint was enough for now. But someday soon, he wanted all of her and all of her smile. He just hoped she’d be willing to give it.
They skated for a while before he led her to a bench and retrieved two mugs and a jug from his bag. The apple cider had been hot when they’d left her house and was now lukewarm, but her expression seemed contented as they sipped and talked.
When the cold forced them up and into action, they skated again, this time for warmth. As he reached for her hand, she darted forward, not giving him the chance to capture it.
A pang of disappointment shot through his chest, until she glanced at him over her shoulder. Her gaze challenged him—almost dared him—to try to catch her.
His pulse raced forward before he could make his feet do so. She wasn’t rejecting him. She was flirting with him, wasn’t she?
He gave her a few more strides to gain a lead before starting after her.
She peeked at him before increasing her speed.
At the chase, a thrill wound through him. Was that why Bellamy had paired him with her? Had the matchmaker known he’d relish the pursuit?
His longer legs easily began to close the distance.
The breeze twisted loose strands of her hair and turned her cheeks even rosier. She wasn’t smiling, but her expression contained pleasure, even happiness.
His own happiness swelled. He could get used to spending his life chasing after her and winning her anew each day.
“I took you for a fast skater.” She threw the playful taunt at him.
“I can catch you if I want to.” He tossed a taunt back.
She shook her head and tried to accelerate. But she was already going as fast as she could.
In several easy moves, he slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She held herself stiffly for only an instant before relaxing.
Slowing to a crawl and careful to keep their skates from tangling, he drew back her against his chest. They’d reached a secluded spot without many skaters, and suddenly all he could think about was having more of her.
Without further thought, he bent into the span of her neck showing above the cloak where her scarf had fallen away. He brushed his nose there, breathing in her unique floral scent.
At the graze, her hands slipped over his. He half-expected her to try to pry herself free, but she pulled his arms tighter, as if she didn’t want him to let go.
Her acquiescence chased away the voice of caution. Without a second thought, he pressed his lips behind her ear. The scent, the satin, the softness—she was as addictive as she had been from the moment he’d met her.
She angled her head, clearly giving him permission to kiss her again.
He intended to take it. This time, he grazed her neck lower, brushing his nose first before letting himself taste her skin.
At his light kiss, she inhaled sharply.
The sound of her pleasure unleashed the need he’d been holding back, and it coursed in hot waves through his veins. He’d never experienced such intensity before, and it left him breathless. It was almost as if every other woman he’d been with, including Helen, had been a counterfeit to Finola.
He wished he could go on kissing her. The very thought sent his heart into a weightless fall of its own, one he didn’t want to fight, but one he needed to if he needed any hope of respecting her chastity until after they were married.
As if sensing the direction of his desire, she squirmed and broke free. Though he wanted to speed after her again and kiss her lips and never come up for air, he forced himself to wait, trying to cool off.
From the moment he’d rescued Finola Shanahan that day in the mud, it was almost as if she’d taken his heart captive. And now it was hers.
He didn’t want it back. But he wanted hers in return. He could only pray she was getting closer to giving it to him.
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