Page 58 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“He didn’t,” she said. “However, I did tell my mother about it.”

“Oh no,” he mumbled. “What did she say?”

“We discussed it and thought it best not to let anyone know. Especially not Father.”

“Yes. I agree. That is something that should remain a secret. Forever.” Why the hell was she telling him? He didn’t want to be privy to this kind of knowledge. He didn’t want anything to ruin the perfect angelic image he had of her in his mind.

“Jonathon, please make love with me,” she all but begged.

“I don’t know. I want to, Raven, honest I do. But I can’t.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Because I’m a noble and you are a commoner?”

“Yes, that has something to do with it. Plus, the fact that if your father or brother found out, I’d be beheaded. Not to mention, I have no idea what your new husband would do to me or to my family. I just can’t take the risk.”

“No one has to know.” She reached up and kissed him, causing him to lose his resolve.

“I’ll know. So will you,” he answered, not stopping her when she kissed him once again.

“I don’t want to be naught but the grand prize of a silly competition,” she told him. A tear streamed down her cheek. He reached up and gently brushed it away.

“Neither do I want that for you,” he said softly, feeling the love in his heart swell for this woman. “You deserve so much more.”

“I am about to be handed off as the wife to someone who might be horrible, old, ugly, and disgusting,” she told him. “What if Lords Whitehead or Belmouth win the competition? I don’t want to be either of their brides.”

“Nay. Neither do I want that for you.”

She was crying now, and Jonathon didn’t know how to comfort her. He wanted her so much that if he touched her again, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go and walk away.

“Raven, darling, stop crying. Please,” he told her. It felt odd to just call her Raven without her title. Still, it felt right in a way. They were together and alone, and he didn’t want her status to come between them. Even if just for a night, dropping her title would help him cope with the fact that they were so different from each other.

Her arms went around him and she rocked back and forth as she continued to cry. The strong, rebellious, boisterous woman, who seemed afraid of nothing or no one, was now vulnerable and frail and he didn’t know what to do.

“At least give me one night of pleasure before I am imprisoned in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life. Please, Jonathon. At least allow me that.”

“It’s not right, Raven. We don’t belong together and you know it.”

“I wish I could marry you, not any stupid noble.”

“What?” he asked in surprise. “Raven, you don’t mean that.”

“I do. I think I am in love with you, Jonathon. I have never felt this away about a man before.”

“Ohhh,” he said, wondering if he could have gotten himself in any worse position.

“Don’t you want me?” she asked with a sniffle.

“More than you know,” he answered, stepping back, trying hard not to touch her, when all he wanted to do right now was to scoop her up in his arms and take her to his bed.

“Do you love me?” she asked. “Please, tell me the truth. I need to know.”

He wanted to lie to her and say he didn’t love her. If he could discourage her, mayhap she’d turn and leave right now before it was too late.

“Yes,” he said instead, his voice coming out in a breathy whisper. His eyes closed and he found it hard to breathe.

“Then I see no reason to stop ourselves from doing what we both want so badly.”

When his eyes flittered open, this time his jaw dropped. Raven stood there completely naked, with her night rail pooled around her feet. Her ebony hair was loose, falling softly over her shoulders. Her perky, but full breasts stood at attention, her hardened nipples begging to be suckled. Raven’s waist was small, her hips delectably curvy. And in the juncture of her thighs was a nest of midnight curls that he wanted more than anything to touch.