Page 18 of Fairy Tale Husband

Jake awoke in that timeless moment between the black of night and the first light of dawn, not quite certain what had disturbed him. Awhispery sigh drifted from the other side of the mattress and he turned his head. Wynne lay facing him, sound asleep. In that instant reality came crashingdown.

He was married, acondition he’d sworn he’d avoid, and this slip of a woman was his wife. He gritted his teeth, calling himself every kind of a fool. What had he been thinking, marrying someone so clearly out of her element? He must have lost hismind.

She murmured a name, his name, perhaps, and he propped himself on one elbow, studying her. She’d kicked off her covers during the night and her nightgown had ridden up, hugging her slender hips. She had beautiful legs, lean and lightly muscled, legs that begged to be touched. He gave in to their allure, stroking the silken skin of her thigh, inching his hand ever upward. Slowly, carefully, he slipped beneath the thin cotton nightgown, his palm caressing the curve of herhip.

She felt like heaven.

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the need to make this woman his. He wanted her. He wanted her as desperately now as he had last night.

She was his wife, damn it all. He could take her and no one would object, including his lovely bride. But to fondle her as she slept, when she wasn’t in a position to object... What sort of lowlife was he? Using every ounce of strength, he removed his hand and opened hiseyes.

Wynne’s sleepy gaze methis.

Her expression held open curiosity and he stilled, reining in his desires, forcing his features into an impassive mask. His control was pointless. She inhaled sharply, comprehension dawning with the first glimmer of morning light. Her spring-green eyes never wavered, hope shimmering in their depths, and she shifted closer, trapped within the stream of scarlet rays just peeking over the windowsill. Sunrise bathed her in a russet glow, licking across her hair and skin like a flame.

She greeted him with a shy smile. “Good morning, Mr. Hondo.”

“Mornin’, Mrs. Hondo,” he replied gruffly. “How did you sleep?”

“Not bad. Thank you for joining me. Iwas afraid you wouldn’t.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You asked so nicely. How could I refuse?”

She grinned in response and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. The unstudied movement caused the bodice of her nightgown to gape, exposing her breasts. They were lovely, pale and round, the nipples the color of sun-ripened peaches. Unable to resist, he reached out and filled his palm, anticipating some sort of protest. It never came. Her only reaction was a muffled gasp, while her eyes grew dark and slumberous.

He glanced down at his hand, his copper-tinged skin a sharp contrast to the pure whiteness of her breast. She was beautiful, beautiful to the eyes and exquisite to the touch. As one timeless moment followed another, he silently raged at himself for allowing lust to overrule common sense. With a bitten off curse, he releasedher.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured shyly.

His mouth tightened. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not afraid anymore.”

He jackknifed upright, looming over her, infusing his voice with a strong warning. “You will be if I don’t stop. Iguarantee it.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Oh, no?” He laughed at her naïveté, the sound barren and humorless. “We’ve had this conversation before, remember? I’m not capable of doing anything else.”

“Others may believe that, but I don’t.” She reached for him, stroking the tense muscles of his arm. When he didn’t protest, she leaned closer, emboldened, pressing feather-light kisses the length of his raspy jawline.

He managed to shove a single word past tightly clenched teeth. “Don’t.”

“I just wanted to show I wasn’t afraid.”

“Aren’t you?” It would be so easy to prove her wrong. His resolve hardened. Maybe if he did, it would settle the situation between them once and for all. He didn’t delay any further. In one lightning-fast move, he tossed her backward. Crouching above, he planted his hands on either side of her head, settling the lower half of his body on top of hers. Only her cotton nightgown separated them. It was a flimsy barrier, about as flimsy as his self-control. “Afraid now?” he demanded.

She shook her head, but he noticed that some of her confidence hadfled.

“You should be.”

Shadows briefly marred the serenity of her expression before vanishing in the face of absolute certainty. “I need you, Jake.” She reached for him, tracing the taut angles of his face from cheekbone to chin. “And you need me.”

The wild animal came roaring back, feral gold eyes glaring down at her. “Why are you doing this?” he snarled. “Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it? This marriage should never have happened. I’m not a safe man to be around.”

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