“I can well believe it.” Her tone held a smile.
Unable to keep himself from it, Christian lowered his head and touched his whiskered jaw to her cheek, savoring the feel of her within his arms. He closed his eyes, hugging her, remembering her fire, and felt again that stirring of his blood. If he lived an eternity, he doubted he would ever have his fill of her. She was as beautiful and unmanageable as the wilds before them.
He savored this moment with her. It was such blissful torment to hold her so close and not be able to love her as he yearned to do. It was just as well... for there was that which needed to be said between them, and he could not bear to delay the inevitable any longer.
Closing her eyes, Jessie leaned back against him. In his arms she felt so alive, so cherished, so loved. As she recalled what she’d said to him during their lovemaking, a small pang tuggedat her heart, for he’d never returned her love words. True, he was kinder now, more attentive, but the fact remained that she loved alone. Unrequited love. And yet, so long as he would give her this incredible tenderness, she told herself she cared not whether he reciprocated ever.
So long as he held her thus always.
Christian’s hand slipped down suddenly, pressing at her belly firmly as though he would draw her within himself somehow and never let her go. The moment was excruciating in its tenderness. Breathing deeply, he moved his hand up to rest just beneath her breast. And then, as though he could not help himself, his other hand came around her as well and slid down to the apex of her thighs, caressing her there softly, boldly, kindling her inner fires once more.
Jessie arched backward against him, moaning at the unexpected assault upon her senses, but he halted suddenly, inhaling a breath, shuddering as though only just recalling their surroundings. He stilled his hands, bringing them about her waist, locking them there to keep them from roaming, though his body remained taut.
“Jessie, love... I’ve something to tell you... though you might despise me for it after.”
Jolted by his declaration, Jessie turned to look at him. Though his lips were smiling slightly, his eyes held no mirth at all.
She smiled sweetly, teasing him. “Are you so certain I do not still?’“
He stiffened, though his hands never left her middle, and his smile disappeared wholly. “Do you, Jessamine?”
She shook her head slowly. “How could you think so, after all?”
He laughed then, the sound hollow, and shook his head. A chill traveled her spine. “How could I think so? ’Tis God’s own truth, you only said so a hundred times,” he reminded her.
“Aye... but I did not mean it,” she confessed, her eyes misting. “I truly did not mean it.”
“Jessamine,” he began again, his tone grave now. “Listen to me, love, and do not speak until I’ve finished... ’Tis a difficult thing I must say.”
She wanted to tell him that nothing could be so terrible as what they had already endured. “Christian?—”
“Hush, my love, listen... know that I do not wish to lose you,ma belle vie.Yet there is that part of me that would have you know everything, for I wish no more deceit between us—not ever!”
Christian fought the almost irresistible urge to tell her that he loved her and then to plead with her not to detest him for what he was about to reveal, but he could not find a way past his accursed pride. If she despised him, then he wanted at least that small part of him left intact.
He sighed then. “It has to do with your father. You see...” There was no gentle way to put it. The truth was damning and there was no way around it. “It may be my fault that your father killed himself.” She stiffened before him suddenly, and he knew his fears had not been unfounded.
“Aye, I know that he did; ’tis no secret, love.”
He forced Jessie to look at him then, turning her face gently to his. Her eyes were wide with shock... and then revulsion, he thought, but she remained silent just as he’d asked, and so he knew nothing for certain of her thoughts.
“I impoverished him Jessamine, thwarted him at every bend in the road, all in the name of vengeance. I drove him to his death,” he admitted bluntly, regretting his retaliation in wholefor Jessie’s sake. The silence lengthened between them and her face lost all color.
“I see,” she said finally, her tone devoid of emotion, her green eyes vacant and unseeing.
“Jessie...”
“I don’t think I wish to hear any more.” She turned suddenly away from him, as though she could not bear to look upon him.
“I... am... sorry,” he said, his voice catching. His apology seeming inadequate.
Unable to prolong the torture, for her sake, he clicked the reins, urging his mount away from the glade.
Not another word was spoken between them.
Hours later,Jessie found herself pacing the length of the woven carpet that graced the master’s chamber.
Not even the distant muddle of voices from below stairs distracted her from her deliberation. And her musing was interrupted only once, when Quincy came to deliver the trunk she’d left in the unfinished wing.
