Page 62 of His Perfect Bride
He held her tighter, nearly cutting off her air. But she didn’t care. She savored the feeling of being so close and of having his strong body pressed to hers. His breathing against her ear was labored. And in the next instant, his mouth touched her ear.
The sensation of his lips and warmth grazing her ear was so sensual, she couldn’t hold back a gasp.
He kissed her ear again, this time harder and longer, the desire achingly sweet so that she wrapped her fingers into his cloak to keep herself from buckling and sliding to the ground in a melted heap.
How was it possible that he could render her useless in just seconds?
“There.” His voice was gravelly against her ear. “Now there’s no question in anyone’s mind that you are mine.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, he released her as suddenly as he’d held her. He turned to his horse and began to unstrap a bundle of supplies.
Her knees were wobbly and her head dizzy and her body filled with a need she didn’t understand. She had to grab on to the horse’s halter in order to keep from collapsing.
She wanted to tug Jackson back toward her so that this time she could wrap her arms around him and kiss him right. But as she leaned closer, she glimpsed Pastor Abe casting glances their way as he knelt by a bundle of kindling and attempted to light a fire with a flint.
Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly backed away, putting sufficient distance from Jackson and grasping the bundle on the back of her horse.
Jackson had a powerful influence over her emotions and body—more so than she’d realized. How easy it was for her to fall into his arms, to fall against his body, and to fall in love with him.
Yes, it was the truth. She was falling in love with him.
Oh my. Her fingers trembled against the rope holding the bag in place.
She couldn’t be in love yet, could she?
Even as her mind attempted to deny it, her heart thudded with the realization that she’d allowed herself to fall helplessly and hopelessly in love with Jackson Lennox.
She shouldn’t have done it. She knew what it was like to be rejected by a man—how painful and devastating and life-changing it had been. She didn’t want to suffer through that again.
A part of her wanted to believe Jackson was different, that their circumstances were different, that she was different. But Jackson had never given her a reason to believe he wanted a future with her, not even with his offhand comment about how they should have gotten married in Victoria.
Besides, even if maybe he thought he wanted more, he would learn she wasn’t perfect enough for him. He could find someone so much better than her—a woman of his class who would be able to join his social circles and not be an embarrassment to him.
Even though he claimed she was more than just a lady’s maid, the reality was that she was only a simple mill girl from Manchester. She had a family there who was counting on her help. She had Augusta who also still needed her.
Yes, she was living in a fantasy world to think that a man like Jackson could ever truly be interested in a woman like her. Of course he was attracted to her like the other men were. But that wasn’t enough.
Shesimply wasn’t enough. She hadn’t been for David. What made her believe she ever would be for Jackson?
Twenty-One
It was time for bed. And Sage was already in the tent. The very small tent.
Jackson gave his horse one last rub before tucking the brush away in the saddlebag. All the while he’d been grooming the horses and thinking about the coming night, his gut had cinched tighter until he felt like he couldn’t draw in a full breath.
A part of him wanted to go into the tent, lie down beside Sage, and pull her into his arms. Yet another part of him objected to doing so because it would be wrong. Because sleeping with a woman—even innocently—was a privilege reserved for marriage.
The trouble was, with the hug they’d shared earlier still fresh on his mind, he wasn’t sure he’d end up beinginnocentif he was in such close confines with her again.
He’d already proven he was too weak that night in Centreville above the pub when they’d shared a bed. The temptations had been too great and his desires too strong, and he’d ended up holding her.
With how much his feelings for her were continuing to grow, he trusted himself even less around her. He didn’t want to compromise Sage any more than he already had.
However, some of the other fellows camping in the river bottoms were still sitting around their campfires. They would notice if he didn’t join hiswifein the tent and instead threw his bedroll down in the grass. Not sleeping with her would raise too many questions he didn’t want to answer, particularly from those in his traveling party. No, he’d have to go in and perhaps put their bags between them—if he could manage to fit them in the middle.
The reverend had bedded down near the fire, his arms crossed behind his head, his face pointed heavenward, his eyes still wide open. Two of the other traveling companions were sitting on a log by the fire and were sipping from whiskey flasks. The other was snoring loudly in his tent nearby.
Jackson drew in a breath of the cool night air and peered up at the cloudless sky and the dark firmament with the constellations on full display—Cassiopeia and Perseus shining the brightest. He’d spent many nights stargazing during his months camping in this area with his crew and had memorized most of the stars.
