Rock Hard Lumberjack: A Lumberjack And A City Girl Romance

by Rye Hart

  I wonder, she thought.

  "It's a dangerous thing, when a beautiful woman thinks," echoed a deep voice with a thick British accent.

  Amelia was startled out of her thoughtful trance by the man's bold statement. "Pardon?" she asked before she turned to face him.

  Her stomach dropped a bit the moment she beheld him. He was classical looking, with round-rimmed spectacles, floppy brown hair, and a dazzling smile. He was a bit older, perhaps in his mid-thirties, and wore a well-fitted suit. He was exactly the type of distinguished, artistic gentleman that she had envisioned in her fantasies. The type of man that would take her on has his muse and teach her the secrets to creating beauty.

  "A dangerous woman," he chuckled softly. His blue eyes flashed behind the clear rims of his glasses. "

  Amelia cocked her head and batted her eyelashes in response to his attention. "You are very bold to make such a statement sir," she replied.

  "Forgive me," he apologized, "but when I see such sharp intelligence in a woman as beautiful as you, I can't help but voice my observation."

  Amelia felt herself smile in response. "I'm sure you've used that line on every woman," she said.

  "On the contrary." As he spoke, he reached down to capture her hand and bring it up to his lips. His attentive eyes met hers in a heated gaze, as his lips brushed against the back of her hand. "I only use that line when I absolutely mean it," he said as he kissed her hand.

  Amelia shivered under his touch. She found his attention exhilarating, the intensity of his gaze made her feel alive and womanly. She rarely had the opportunity to experience the company of men; especially men like —

  "I'm sorry," she said as it dawned upon her that she did not know who the man was. "I'm afraid I did not catch your name."

  "Thomas Florian," he said with a flourish. He let go of her hand and performed a formal bow. "And does the beautiful creature have a name?"

  "Amelia Wellington," she all but stuttered. She couldn't believe that this was the Thomas Florian, the famous artist who's worked was being exhibited. She had dreamed of this moment, fantasized about how she would approach such a distinguished cultivator of the arts. Even in her wildest fantasies, she hadn't imagined it quite as flirtatious as this. "It is a pleasure to meet you," she added once she had regained her composure.

  "Likewise," he nodded.

  "I've admired your work for a long time," she said in an excited rush. She still couldn't believe that she had met Thomas Florian.

  "Well, it is always reassuring to know that there are still people like who you appreciate true art," he stated. "Are you artistically inclined?" Thomas asked with a slightly teasing air.

  "I sketch," Amelia answered.

  Thomas raised a curious eyebrow. "Really?" he said. "I would love to see your work," he stated coolly.

  Amelia was about to reply, when James interrupted her.

  "This place is fascinating," he said with excitement.

  Thomas took an assessing look at James, before proceeding to excuse himself. "I am afraid I must make my rounds," he said politely. "But Miss Wellington," he captured Amelia's attention once again with his intense gaze, "perhaps we can make arrangements sometime to view your work."

  "Of course," she said enthusiastically.

  Thomas made a quick nod toward Amelia and James.

  Once Thomas had left, Amelia couldn't help but direct her frustration toward the man that had interrupted her conversation.

  "James!" she seethed through gritted teeth. "Didn't you see that I was busy?"

  "Sorry about that," James flashed her one of his dazzling smiles. "I thought you needed saving from the man, I got the sense that he was being a bit too forward with you," he said.

  "He was not being too forward," she quickly dismissed his claim. "That was Thomas Florian, the artist I was telling you about, the artist that painted all of these works of art," she gestured to the paintings hanging on the walls around them.

  James took a surveying look and nodded. "Just because he is a good painter, doesn't mean he can't be a weasel," he said casually.

  Amelia gave a huge sigh. "What do you know of great art and the artists behind them," she muttered.

  James caught her hand up in his, startling Amelia. "I know that beauty is not necessarily a reflection of what goes on beneath the surface," he said mysteriously.

  Amelia's instinct was to pull her hand away, but as she gazed into James's green eyes, she couldn't help but get a little lost. His large, rough hands made her own feel small and delicate in his grasp; quite different from Mr. Florian's grasp, which demonstrated that he came from a privileged life. And although Amelia had felt her senses tingle with anticipation when Thomas touched her hand, she felt something entirely different when James grasped hers just now. Instead, she felt something stir in the pit of her stomach, something more primal, unknown, enticing, and just a little frightening. She wondered if James felt it too, their odd connection.

  "James," she stopped. Her thoughts jumbled the longer she stared into his emerald gaze.

  "Perhaps we should head home now?" he offered.

  Amelia just nodded her agreement. Her mind was too busy sorting through the new emotions she had experienced in the last half hour. The enigmatic Thomas Florian had set her senses on fire, but it was James that had ignited a sense of longing within her that she could not quite explain.

  Obviously I've been spending too much time with the Texan, she thought to herself. She thought to herself.

  She allowed James to escort her out of the art gallery. But while she left with him, she wasn't sure that she hadn't left a piece of her heart with a certain charming Brit.

  Chapter Three

  Amelia felt like she was floating on clouds of happiness. That is, until she came crashing down with the harsh realization of reality.

  Thomas Florian hadn't contacted her since their initial meeting earlier that week. She had expected that he would send her a letter, asking that they rendezvous to discuss their artistic passions. She had thought she felt a spark between them, and she had been so certain that he would contact her.

  Just when she was about to give up hope that she would never hear from him again, she received a surprising house call.

  She thought it was her friend, Margery, who was calling when she heard the doorbell ring. And since she expected it to be her friend, she hadn't cared to make herself any more presentable than one might be if they were lounging about the house. Therefore, when she opened the door and saw the handsome Thomas Florian smiling back at her, she couldn't help but feel incredibly flustered.

  "Mr. Florian!" she exclaimed. "Why are you here?" she asked.

  "I believe a beautiful woman made a promise to me about allowing me to view her art," he said mischievously. I asked the owner of the art shop where your family resided and here I am.

  Amelia tried to remember what exactly she had said back at the art exhibit, but her mind was too clouded by the sudden appearance of the object of her affection to think clearly. "Did I?" she questioned. She brought her hand up to her chest to quell her rapidly beating heart. "I must have," she stated.

  "I hope I'm not coming at a bad time?" Thomas said.

  Amelia ran her hand down the front of her dress in a vain attempt to smooth some of the wrinkles. "Why of course not," she said as her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "Please come in," she stepped aside to allow him entrance into her family's home.

  "Actually," Thomas stopped before entering. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind going out for a ride with me?" he asked. He motioned toward a carriage that waited behind him.

  Amelia glanced at him and then back down the narrow foyer. She could hear the muffled commotion of her sister's children echo off the thin walls as they played. She wasn't exactly sure the house and the occupants were ready to receive such a high profile visitor, especially since Amelia wanted to make the best impression possible. It was bad enough that her outfit was not up to par, but in the moment she wou
ld just have to make do. And besides, he was offering to take her out.

  "Ok," she said. "Give me two minutes to get ready."

  "As long as you need," Thomas winked at her. As he was about to turn away, he made one a quick request of Amelia. "Make sure to bring your sketchbook," he added.

  "Of course," Amelia smiled at him.

  Chapter Four

  Cozied up under a willow tree, Amelia sat next to Thomas on the soft grass while he perused her sketchbook. She felt like she was in Heaven.

  "Excellent work," he commented. "The detailed artistry is superb!" He continued to turn the pages as he rained down praise on Amelia. "Your style is unique and your skill is rare among someone of your age, especially since you have had formal training."

  "Just a passion for the craft," Amelia smiled.

  "And it shows," Thomas gushed.

  Amelia beamed at his praise. She couldn't believe that she had just spent an incredible afternoon with such a talented man. It was all almost too good to be true.

  "It is all too much," Thomas spoke with a strong finality. With a sudden force, he closed Amelia's sketchbook and set it aside. He turned to face her directly from where they sat on the grass and captured her hands in his own.

  Amelia stilled, unsure of what exactly Thomas was doing.

  "Amelia," he said in a breathy rush. "I have never met anyone as incredible, intelligent, beautiful, and talented as you before."

  Amelia felt the blood rush to her face. She averted her gaze out of sudden shyness brought upon by his intense attention. "You flatter me sir," she said softly.

  "I say nothing more than what you deserve," he said earnestly. He leaned in closer, bringing his lips within an inch of her ear.

  Amelia could feel his breath hot against her skin; it sent shivers down her spine. "You and I are a lot alike, don't you think?" he asked.

  "I dream of reaching your level of expertise, but I know I still have a long way to go," Amelia replied humbly.

  "Which is why you need someone to teach you how to tap into your potential, to cultivate your abilities, to guide you toward becoming all that you are capable of," Thomas whispered in her ear.

  "Yes," Amelia sighed. This was what she had been waiting for her whole life, dreaming of from within the confines of the house. This man was offering her the world.

  "Let me be that guide," he breathed against her skin. His lips grazed the edge of her ear and caused Amelia to flinch.

  Amelia had never been this close to a man before, and she especially had never experienced this level of heated intensity. It was new, exhilarating, and all-consuming.

  "What do I need to do?" she asked hesitantly.

  Thomas leaned back then and leveled his gaze with hers. "Marry me," he offered seductively.

  Amelia gasped. Marriage? "But, we only just met earlier this week!" she protested. She wasn't adverse to the idea, but something within her hesitated at the offer.

  "I understand that, but we artist types not only express passion in our work, but live passion in our lives." He brought her right hand up to rest against his chest. "Do you feel how intensely my heart beats for you?"

  Amelia could feel his heart beating beneath the cotton of his dress shirt. She wasn't sure what to say, she was so caught up in the moment. "Yes," she mumbled.

  "You have ignited a fire within me, in my heart, that cannot be quenched without your help," Thomas expressed. His eyes blazed as his continued his speech. "I know that you are the muse that I have been waiting for, the one that will bring much needed life to my artistry."

  Amelia could barely think, so enraptured by the moment. Thomas Florian wants to make me his muse? She thought to herself. She couldn't believe it.

  "I will only exist in misery if you are not by my side, for after meeting you, it has become obvious that we were meant to be together," he breathed.

  "Yes," Amelia said shakily. "Yes I will marry you," she said with a bit more energy as she began to accept the idea.

  "I know this is all so sudden," Thomas said, "but you must see it was our destiny to come together."

  Amelia nodded. "I feel it too," she said quietly.

  "Perfect," Thomas concluded. He brought his mouth forward to brush a light kiss against her lips.

  When his mouth touched hers, she couldn't help but balk a little. Perhaps it was because she had never been kissed before, or perhaps it was because she was still becoming accustomed to the idea of marrying Thomas Florian. Either way, she couldn't help but feel just a little relieved when he pulled back and his lips left hers.

  "My love," he whispered to her again.

  Amelia sighed with delight as Thomas gave her his undivided attention.

  Thomas's demeanor suddenly changed. "I believe it is time for me to return you to your family," he stated quickly. "I have to be back at the gallery to prepare the artwork for transportation," he said.

  "Oh," Amelia said, still flustered from the moment.

  Thomas quickly ushered them from under the willow tree and into the carriage. Once they had settled into their seats, he wrapped his arm protectively around Amelia.

  "I am looking forward to starting our life together," he commented.

  Amelia nodded. "When will that be?" she asked.

  "Once I return to England," he said. He looked at her sorrowfully. "Unfortunately, I need to complete the art tour here in America first, but once it is done, I will return home and make the necessary arrangements for us. Once that is complete, I will write to you and you will join me," he explained.

  Amelia felt that strange hesitancy bubble up inside her again. "We will be moving to England?" she repeated.

  "Of course," Thomas stated. "That is where my family's ancestral home is. We will be quite comfortable on the lavish estate," he explained.

  "Oh," Amelia voiced. She had probably envisioned her charming knight rescuing her from the drivel of daily life in Valley Springs for the past nineteen years, yet now that it was finally being offered to her, she couldn't help but feel a little sad. "Would we still be able to come back to visit?" She couldn't believe she was asking that question, especially since most of her time was occupied with thinking up ways to get out of town. But she suddenly needed the reassurance that she wouldn't be leaving forever.

  "Absolutely, my love," Thomas said as he cupped her chin in his hand and brought her face toward his to plant a light kiss on her lips. "Whatever you need," he assured.

  Although his words echoed the sentiments Amelia had always dreamed of hearing, she couldn’t help but feel like they rang a bit hollow.

  Chapter Five

  Amelia sat outside sketching, trying to think of how she could tell her family that she was engaged. She didn't think she would receive too many negative reactions, considering her sisters' unconventional engagements, but she still couldn't quite shake the uneasy feeling that they might think she was making a mistake.

  She had to use loose-leaf paper to draw today, as she had left her sketchbook with Thomas since he had offered to show her work to a few curators.

  "Thomas is a good man," she repeated quietly to herself in an attempt to quell her anxious thoughts.

  She tried to distract her racing mind by throwing herself into her artwork. It didn't last long, as a very different kind of distraction sat down next to her on the porch.

  She didn't need to look up to see that it was James, because her body had an odd way of responding whenever he was near. Her chest would become tight, the hairs on her arms would raise, and her hands would start to tremble. She was afraid that James would notice the slight trembling, so she started to put her work away.

  "Please don't stop on my behalf," James said as Amelia began to put away her things.

  Amelia was too proud to tell him that his presence made her unable to focus on her work. She hated that he had that kind of effect on her. "No," she lied smoothly, "I was about to pack up anyways."

  James settled in next to her. "Good," he said, "I've been meaning
to talk to you."

  Amelia stilled. "About what?" she asked nervously. Does he know about Thomas?

  "Well," he ran a hand through his unruly auburn hair. "I had a fine time going to that art show the other day," he said.

  "Really?" Amelia said, surprised by his statement. "I thought you preferred to experience the outdoors, rather than look at a landscape on a wall?" she asked.

  "I do," he tossed her a cheeky grin. "But it wasn't the art that I enjoyed," he broke off his words and leaned in closer to Amelia.

  She'd never been this close to James before, and it made her feel dizzy. She looked into his eyes, the intense green reflecting a depth that she had not realized was there. James may act cocky and self-important, but she suspected he observed a lot more than she gave him credit for. She opened her mouth to protest the closeness, but instead she surprised herself with her own words. "What part did you enjoy?" she whispered as her eyes continued to hold his gaze.

  "The time I spent with you," he breathed as he leaned in closer to her.

  Amelia gasped as James's lips brushed against her cheek. She thought she would feel embarrassed by his actions, but instead she found herself turning her face so that his lips came into contact with hers. She was shocked by her own boldness, but her body guided her forward before her mind could process her action.

  Amelia felt James press his lips against hers, gently. Slowly, he began to nip and taste her plump mouth. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to be enveloped by the enticing sensation. Her mind could no longer process any rational thought, and instead, she found herself bringing her hands up to run through his hair and pull his mouth tighter to hers.

  "What are you doing?" said a quiet, child's voice.

  And just like that, their moment was over. Amelia pulled her lips away from James.

  "Honey? What are you doing outside? It is almost your bedtime" Amelia said to little four-year-old Lilly. Amelia quickly rose from the spot where she had been sitting when James had embraced her, smoothing the hair away from her face.