Lord Garson’s Bride (Dashing Widows 7) - Page 38

Yesterday in Salisbury, she’d been surprised when he didn’t push her much past where he had the day before. Not as far. Thinking about their encounter in the cathedral two days ago made her pulses race. What a fine scandal they’d have sparked, if a deacon had stumbled across them in one another’s arms. She’d have died of mortification.

Except the fear of discovery had added a thrilling charge to what they did in that empty chapel.

Last night’s kiss had repeated the previous day’s chaste salute. Even so, when he’d asked if he could stay, it had been difficult to say no.

So why had she?

Perhaps because she was still afraid, if not nearly as afraid as she had been.

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 all the 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.”

Tags: Anna Campbell Dashing Widows Romance
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