“I am a man,” he said simply, as if that somehow entirely answered her question.

She took a step forward. “And that means you don’t wish a lady to seize you in her arms and to kiss you so that you cannot breathe?”

He looked alarmed that she might do as she suggested. “It is a gentleman’s job to do that thing.”

“Truly?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips, frustrated that he was as narrow as the rest in this.

“Yes,” he replied.

From his own stance, she thought it would be incredibly difficult totake him. His shoulders were so broad. His hair so wild. His gaze so intense and deep. His stance so strong. His arms so firmly crossed against his chest.

Could it be done? Did she wish to?

It suddenly felt like a challenge.

One that she was rather curious about.

She hated the idea that she was in his thrall, and she was.

The thought crashed in on her, and she gasped softly. Good God, she was.

From their kiss to every interaction they’d had since she first shimmied up his tree, he held the promise of something that she did not understand. And yet the knowledge that he had, he was dangling it out to her, and she wanted to seize it.

And so, before she could stop herself, she strode up to him and said, “Is it not possible that we could take each other?”

His mouth dropped. “I beg your pardon?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” she rushed. “Could we not seize each other and take each other and meet each other passion for passion? Must the lady be the vine? Or could we not be two oaks?”

“My God,” he said, his eyes wide with shock. “You must go.”

“What?”

“You must go,” he repeated.

“Why should I go?” she exclaimed, no longer at ease and suddenly very concerned he was about to abandon her again, as he had done when they were but children. “We have only just begun.”

“Jack,” he breathed. “You have no idea what you are saying. I promised your brother that I would not ruin you.”

“Are you thinking of ruining me?” she asked, astonished.

“Yes,” he stated forcefully. “I do not know how this has come to pass. But right now, I want to take you to my bed, throw you upon it, and show you exactly what we are meant to do together.”

She sucked in a breath, his words coursing through her, painting a very vivid, very appealing, very dangerous picture. “Yes, I suppose I should go, then. Are you certain you don’t wish to wed me?”

“Not you, Jack, no,” he replied, even as his voice deepened with emotion. “I was a fool to let you come up here; to think that I could teach you lessons of being captivating. When I already knew that my body burned for you. It was a foolish thing to do.”

“We cannot always be wise,” she said.

“I can,” he replied, his voice berating himself.

“Can you?” She shook her head, gazing upon him with pity in that moment. “I think that such a statement says that you are a fool indeed.”

He winced. “That’s cruel.”

“No, it’s not,” she said. “It’s true. One cannot always be wise, even if they try,” she said, her heart sinking. “You don’t wish me here, and I understand.”

She steeled herself to go, but then she stopped. The stakes were too high. She couldn’t marry Drexel. Her family needed a fortune.


Tags: Eva Devon Historical