Page 52 of His Perfect Bride
At the insinuation that she and Jackson would be engaging in marital intimacies, fresh mortification shot through Sage, and she stumbled.
Jackson drew her closer, likely in an effort to steady her steps. But as her body connected with his, all she could think about was the fact that she would be sharing a room with the most attractive man she’d ever met.
Seventeen
The coming night would be a very long one.
Jackson stood at the window of the room Rawhide Ralph had given them and peered through the darkness toward the river. Although he couldn’t see the steamboat, he knew it was secured at the wharf, and it was beckoning to him, even chastising him, to bed down on one of the decks. The autumn night would be cold, but the frigid temperature would surely cool down his overheated body and keep him from doing something with Sage he’d regret in the morning.
Not that he had any intention of taking advantage of her or the situation. But the entire marriage charade had gone from bad to worse with every passing hour.
The moment he’d stepped inside the room that was no bigger than a closet, he’d halted abruptly and nearly demanded more spacious accommodations. But Rawhide Ralph had been waiting in the hallway for his reaction with such anticipation, Jackson had known that this was the best the fellow had to offer.
Now Jackson was stuck for the night in a tiny room with a bed that could hold two people…if both people were small children. With the night table, a dresser, and a trunk filling the rest of the room—along with their luggage—there was no floor space left available for a man of his size.
Behind him, Sage was attempting to change out of her garments into her nightgown. But from all her shifting and rustling, he guessed even the smallest movement in the tight confines was challenging.
He’d wanted to step into the hallway to give her more privacy, but with the sound of footsteps coming and going outside the door, he refused to leave her alone for even a few seconds.
“I’m almost done,” she said breathlessly, as if she was hurrying.
“I beg your forgiveness that I am not able to give you more privacy.” He apologized again as he’d already done several times.
“We’ll make do.” Her whisper held a note of embarrassment that hadn’t gone away since they’d entered their room and Rawhide Ralph had wished them a good night with a vulgar wink.
“I can put out the lantern,” Jackson offered once more.
“I trust you, Jackson.”
He was glad she’d kept a level head throughout the whole ordeal, explaining to him several times that she wasn’t bothered by the accommodations, that she’d had far inferior sleeping quarters during her life.
The real issue wasn’t the tight space or small bed. The real issue was that they were not man and wife and shouldn’t be in the compromising situation at all.
But what choice did he have? He couldn’t very well go out and confess that he and Sage were traveling companions and friends and nothing more. They had already established that fabricating a marriage was the best option available to them at this point. And after the men’s reaction to her beauty earlier—the way everyone had stared at her in the dining room—he felt even more responsible for her well-being and making sure she wasn’t sullied.
Caleb’s warning from the previous night echoed in his head.If you kiss her again and don’t marry her, I’ll track you down and make you do it.
Staying together like this ranked with kissing in terms of intimacy. If Caleb could see them now, he’d make them get married.
Jackson’s chest tightened. Should he just wed her? Would that be best? He doubted she would agree to it. Besides, he didn’t want her to feel coerced into being with him.
Behind him, the bed creaked.
The very idea of her sliding onto the mattress and between the sheets in her nightgown sent a shot of heat into his blood.
With a rapid shake of his head, he closed his eyes against any desire for her. He couldn’t let himself think about her as a beautiful and desirable woman. Not only wasn’t it appropriate at a time like this, but it wasn’t appropriate ever.
He had to think of Augusta and how to find her. He’d let it be known that he was searching for his sister and was offering a reward for any information about her. But no one recognized the description he’d given of Augusta.
“I’m done,” Sage whispered.
He blew out a breath and straightened his shoulders before turning around. He looked everywhere but at her in the bed. His gaze bounced to the door, to the neatly folded stack of her clothing on the dresser, to the hairbrush next to it, and to her shoes lined up next to her bag.
He allowed himself a short glance at her.
She was sitting against the metal headboard, the covers pulled up to her chin and her eyes wide upon him—those beautiful blue eyes that were so perceptive, that saw him for who he was and accepted him with all his flaws but also challenged him to be better.
“You have such pretty eyes.” He blurted the words before he could stop himself. The moment they were out, he bent toward the lantern on the bedside table and snuffed it.
