Jed's Sweet Revenge

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Jed's Sweet Revenge Page 12

by Deborah Smith


  He stood and went down the porch steps, then turned to glare up at her. The rain had become a slow drizzle that misted his face and hair. “I’m a damn fool, and you can enjoy that fact after I leave. I’ve got some camping gear on the dock. I’ll stay there tonight and Farlo’ll be back for me in the mornin’.” When she started to speak, he held up a warning hand. “If you’ve got thanks, hold ’em. I didn’t expect ’em when I decided to give you the island. It’s always belonged to you. I just made it official.” He paused, looking even more upset. “And if you’ve got more ugly names to call me, hold those too. I’ve had enough to last me a long time.”

  Thena pounded her knees with both fists. “You pick the worst time to become a talkative man!” She stood and hurried down the steps, and before he knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, hugged him as if she’d never let him go. Jed’s hand rose uncertainly to touch her shoulders.

  “You don’t have to do anything in return,” he groaned, trying to push her away. “Don’t latch on to me out of gratitude.”

  “You stubborn cowboy, I’m latching on to you because I’ve missed you and because I love you!” Thena tilted her head back and looked at him through a haze of bittersweet anxiety. “I wanted you to come back. I prayed that you’d come back. And it had nothing to do with the island.” She shook his shoulders. “It had to do with me, Jedidiah. You and I are two of a kind.”

  His arms moved slowly around her back, while he absorbed the soft, silver light in her eyes. “You love me?” he asked numbly.

  Unable to tell whether he found that good or bad at this point, she tried to sound practical about it. “The immediate chemical reaction can be explained as a routine, though perhaps unusually fervent, mating desire, but the spiritual bond that grew between us is something unique.” She hesitated as she saw the gleaming intensity rising in his eyes, not quite sure what he meant to do about her revelation. “Do you think you want that kind of bond, Jedidiah? The powerful, permanent kind?”

  Jed’s next words, simple and heartfelt, left her gazing at him in adoring wonder. “I think,” he murmured, “that it’s my destiny to walk where you walk and love what you love for the rest of my life.”

  Dizzy with emotion, Thena closed her eyes. She had both Sancia and Jed. It was incredible. Jed touched his mouth to hers, and she stiffened with fear. Of course it was incredible, Thena thought suddenly. And impossible. She knew how to love, but she didn’t know how to make love, and nothing could overcome that inadequacy. Thena arched her head back, away from his kiss, and looked up to find his face gone ashen.

  “What am I doin’ wrong this time?” he asked gruffly. “Just tell me. I never had this trouble before, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna ruin what you feel for me.”

  Thena’s heart nearly burst with devotion. There wasn’t another man in the world who would assume that her awkwardness was due to some mistake on his part. “Let’s get out of the rain, Jedidiah.” She pushed herself from his embrace and went back to the porch, feeling flushed and anxious. He followed quickly, his face set in a worried frown.

  “You can stay in the upstairs bedroom,” she said with as much lightness as she could manage. Thena opened the screen door and stepped inside. He came after her, his concerned gaze scouring her face. “Come along. I’ll give you those baggy old clothes you found so funny before. After we’re both dry, I’ll fix some hot tea—”

  “Are you too much of a coward to just tell me the truth?” His voice was low and firm. “We just said we love each other. Now you’re actin’ strange again. You owe me the truth.”

  Thena laughed shakily as she turned to face him. “That I secretly like the way you look in my father’s old clothes? All right, I admit it. The way the calves of your hairy legs show under the rolled-up pants—”

  “Thena, for God’s sake, if you don’t want to be physical with me, just tell me why and be done with it.”

  She backed away, shaking her head. “Do we have to talk about that right now? What about romance? Friendship—”

  “What about fear,” he interjected. “You’re plain scared of me, and it hurts me right down where I live. I want to make love to you, every time you touch me I imagine how it’d be, every time you look at me, every time I get near you and catch the scent of your hair and skin.… I think about you at night. I dream about holding you and wake up so ready it makes me want to burst.”

  “Oh, Jedidiah, don’t,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve that kind of desire.” But the floods of sensation provoked by his words told her that she desperately wanted him to desire her that way, and she wished with every part of her soul that she knew how to make his dreams come true.

  He continued doggedly. “Thena, the best love in the world is the one that mixes romance and friendship with bedroom pleasures. That’s what we could have. Don’t you want that?”

  “Certainly.” She went to the kitchen area, took a dishcloth in her trembling hands, and pretended to be thoroughly involved in drying her hair. “I’m in shock, Jedidiah. You just gave me an island, for goodness’ sake. I’m overwhelmed. I can’t think about you and Sancia all at once.”

  Her heart skipped beats as she heard Jed’s heavy boots crossing the floor. He stopped behind her, and she could feel his bewilderment and frustration. “The professor, Nate Gallagher,” he began in a carefully neutral voice. “I reckon nothing could replace what you had with him. Is that it? You can’t touch me without thinkin’ about him.”

  “No, that’s not it. I cared about Nate very much. I worshiped him for his wisdom, his grasp of philosophy, his curiosity and creativity. But it wasn’t like … it wasn’t the same as the feelings between us.” Nate didn’t want me, she added silently. I couldn’t make him want me, ever. And I never wanted him the way I want you.

  “That doesn’t explain a whole lot to me, except I’m wonderin’ if there was somebody else other than Nate.”

  “No.” She turned around, fumbling with the towel, too close to revealing everything about her shame. Thena stared at the floor. “No one else. I met Nate when I was eighteen. So there’s just been Nate.” Her eyes, very guarded, rose slowly to meet Jed’s. “And you.”

  He tried not to show how surprised he was. Now he could figure out some of her mystery. Innocence. Not just innocence about how the rest of the world lived, but innocent about men. If he’d felt protective for her in the past, now he felt like Sir Galahad. Jed tilted his head to one side and made sure his voice was utterly gentle. “Did he hurt you some way? In bed, I mean? Are you afraid it’ll be like that with me?”

  She shook her head, her expression nearly crumbling, and whispered, “No.”

  He took a step toward her and she frantically grasped the edge of the sink behind her, feeling trapped. Jed halted. She looked as if she’d do anything to stay away from him. He closed the distance between them in two strides and caught her shoulders in a firm grip. Her eyes filled with despair.

  “What are you afraid of?” he demanded.

  “Nothing.”

  “God woman! Tell me! Just tell me!”

  “Do we have to have sex? Is it so crucial—”

  “It’s damn crucial that you tell me what’s wrong so we can talk about how to deal with it!”

  “I’m afraid I’d disappoint you! I don’t know how to make love!” She blurted the words out and buried her face in her hands.

  “What the hell—”

  “I don’t know how,” she repeated tearfully. “You’ve been disappointed in me already. In the way I kiss—or rather, don’t kiss.”

  She raised her head and went on blindly, staring into his incredulous expression. “Don’t you see? Some people are just not suited to be sexual. They’re thinkers, not … doers.”

  After a long minute, he asked blankly, “Weren’t you a ‘doer’ with Nate?”

  “Not … exactly. I learned from him that some women like … well, like Sophia Loren … have talents that are physical. Other
women, such as me, have talents that are intellectual. I don’t excite men. Except for you, but you’re special.” Thena looked at him with misery in her eyes. “I don’t have any of the natural talent that I’m sure you expect in a woman. I don’t think going to bed with me would make you happy.”

  He let go of her, turned, and walked away, his hands on his hips and his head down in thought. “Answer one question straight for me,” he said slowly, “so I’ll know I’m understandin’ this craziness right. Did you and the professor ever make love?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever made love to anyone?”

  Thena’s heart sank. She didn’t have any defenses left. “No. I’m a twenty-five-year-old … old maid.”

  He pondered everything she’d told him. Finally, his back still to her, he said, “Go put on some dry clothes. I’ve got to think on this awhile longer.”

  Thena suppressed a sob. He was uncertain and disappointed, just as she’d thought. “Of course,” she murmured. She hurried past him, went into her bedroom, and shut the door.

  She dreaded going back into the main part of the house, so she took her time. She heard Jed go upstairs and come back down a few minutes later. She heard him moving around the kitchen, and eventually she heard her teapot whistle. Morose, Thena slipped into a soft, light blue cotton smock. It was one of her most comfortable dresses and she needed the security it offered her. With its colorful embroidery, it always made her feel like the queen of the forest. Tonight, it didn’t help her mood much, and the soft fabric somehow felt scratchy on her breasts, which were strangely sensitive and hot.

  Barefoot, her hair loosely braided down her back, Thena walked out of her room and stopped, amazed. The living room was shadowy, lit only by a reading lamp beside one end of the couch and a small fixture over the kitchen sink. Jed stood at the sink, fixing the tea. He was barefoot, too, and he wore only the white pants with the legs rolled up.

  Thena’s heart rate leapt at the sight of his bare, strong back, sculpted by years of hard work, his corded arms with their dark hair, the straight, smooth length of his waist, and the powerful way it curved into his tight flanks and rump. What was going on here? A seduction? Hadn’t he heard anything she’d said about herself?

  Nine

  He turned gracefully, studied her for a moment, then nodded toward the couch. “Sit yourself down, Miss Witch.”

  She did, her legs barely working, her hands lightly clenched. He walked across the room carrying two mugs of steaming tea, and the shadows seemed to emphasize every masculine angle and plane in his body. He sat down in one corner of the couch—the dark corner, Thena noted breathlessly—and motioned with a slight movement of his head.

  “Come over here,” he said gently. “I’m gonna put my arm around your shoulders.”

  Thena’s pulse beat faster. Even though his voice was familiar, his eyes seemed lit by an alien fire. But at least she could tell, now, that he wasn’t uncomfortable because of what she’d said earlier, and that was all that mattered. Thena moved within the arch of the arm he stretched out, then took her cup of tea from him and stared down into it as his arm curled tenderly around her shoulders. The coarseness of his fingers, which drew small circles on her bare arm, sent pleasant quivers through her. Thena tilted her head to study his hands. She knew every ridge and scar of them. She’d lovingly committed them to memory.

  He seemed inclinced not to talk, and after a minute she settled into the same mood. She took a swallow of tea, glanced at him, then looked away. “I’m sorry for what I said today,” she murmured. “I blamed you for everything. I was wrong. The things I called you—”

  “Were just a mistake. Forget it.”

  “Jedidiah, I didn’t mean them.”

  He exhaled wearily. “Gal, I have to be honest with you.” He pulled her closer to him and talked slowly, softly, for a long time. He explained how awkward he felt in his new role as a millionaire. He wasn’t accustomed to traveling on airplanes or staying in big hotels or eating in fine restaurants. He’d never feel comfortable in the social circles to which his money admitted him, and he worried about managing that money even though he had an attorney, an accountant, and a stockbroker to help him.

  Thena sensed that it was difficult for him to admit his worries and inadequacies in those matters, and her chest swelled with a tender sense of pride and protectiveness. He was so strong in so many ways that this vulnerable side of him only made him more human, more lovable. She relaxed into the crook of his arm and drew her feet under her so she could snuggle closer to him. She knew this careful, unhurried mood of his was calculated to loosen her tight nerves, and she didn’t resist the effort.

  “Nate,” he said kindly. “I want to know about this Nate hombre.”

  Tension wound around her again. After a long pause, she cleared her throat and said, “You have to understand why I feel so awkward about touching you or kissing you. I tried those things with Nate, and they never worked the way my books said they’re supposed to.”

  “Sometimes I think you read too much, gal. You can’t learn everything from books. Or from old movies.”

  Thena took a sip of tea, but couldn’t really taste it. She was too distracted by Jed’s words and the whirl of sensation that came from him—his damp, fresh scent, the heat of his fingers, the warmth of his body, the scorching intensity of his eyes. She struggled for more explanations about Nate.

  “He drank a lot,” she finally managed. “He was fifteen years older than me. He’d been married once, a long time ago.”

  “How much did he drink?”

  She sighed. “He was unquestionably a severe alcoholic. But he was a brilliant man, a very controlled man, and he never let the drinking show. Only a few people knew.”

  “And this dude told you that you weren’t sexy?”

  She nodded. “He wasn’t mean about it. He was very logical. And I proved him right.” She looked up with a determined glint in her eyes. “I humiliated myself many times, trying to get him to … make love to me. I always failed. No other woman would have.”

  “No other man could have resisted you.”

  Thena looked at him in askance. “If you’re saying that he wasn’t normal, you’re wrong. Nate looked like Richard Burton, and he had incredible charisma. He was always flirting with women on the mainland. They chased him like crazy.”

  “That doesn’t mean he was A-okay. Did he ever let any of them catch him?”

  “No, he wasn’t interested in what he called ‘sexual dalliances.’ He was perfectly loyal to me.”

  “So what’d he do about it?”

  “He wrote poetry about me. He held my hand.” Her eyes flickered with painful memories. “He’d fall asleep on the beach sometimes when we were reading together. I … uhmmm, would lie down beside him, and sometimes he’d put one arm over me. He’d hug me and hold me. Sometimes he’d give me a kiss on the forehead.” She took a deep sip of tea. “It’s embarrassing to talk about this to you, Jedidiah.”

  “Don’t feel that way. I want you to talk about what went on between you and Nate. I’m beginnin’ to think that I understand him better than you do.” He took her cup and set it on the floor with his. Then he grasped her hand and held it firmly. His eyes weren’t alien any longer. They were full of compassion.

  “Nate would have made love to you,” Jed arched one brow in silent innuendo, “if he could have.”

  “Oh, you don’t mean—”

  “Heavy drinkers can’t, a lot of times. My pa couldn’t, the last few years. The doc said it was the booze. Give up booze or do without girls, he told him. Pa said girls weren’t much fun without booze, so he kept drinkin’.”

  “Are you insinuating that Nate was simply protecting his masculine pride?”

  “Yep. Trust me on this one, gal. I know human nature better than you do. Especially a man’s.”

  She blinked rapidly, thinking. Then she shook her head. “It’s possible, but …”

  “It’s probable, gal.” H
e tilted her chin up and held her gaze with his dark, reassuring eyes. “Nate buffaloed you. There’s not anything wrong with you that practice won’t fix.”

  “I can’t even kiss correctly,” she reminded him. Her breathing was so shallow that she was almost faint. “Are you saying that you don’t mind playing teacher? That you’re not horribly disappointed and shocked? Do you know any other twenty-five-year-old maiden women?”

  Loving her made Jed feel that he was a new man, capable of amazing new accomplishments. He’d never considered himself an expert on romance before, but he reveled in the idea. For the first time in his life, he was concerned only with giving, not taking, happiness.

  “Pretty lady, I’ll love teachin’ you,” he whispered. Humor glinted in his eyes. “I’m not disappointed to find out you’re an old maid. I’m just sorry you didn’t explain all this to me a month ago.”

  “I was ashamed.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not old, and”—he dropped the humor and became serious—“before the night’s over, I suspect you won’t be a ‘maid.’ ” His undemanding tone of voice told her that he was patient. “If you’d like to try makin’ love with me, that is.”

  “Yes. I’ll certainly try.” Her eyes were bright with tears and her tone was full of solemn determination, as if he’d just asked her to recite every category in the Dewey decimal system. Jed smiled sympathetically. He’d have to overwhelm her serious attitude.

  “Then everything will be just fine.” He brushed his lips across her face, starting at her hairline and working down to her mouth.

 

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