This is for the best. She’ll see that in time. Josiah would be patient with her. Catherine would give him the heir he’d craved throughout his marriage to a barren shrew. Liza Wright had left this world a few months earlier, leaving her widower in avid pursuit of a young, fertile wife. Catherine would benefit greatly from his wisdom, and she would learn to be a good wife to Josiah.
* * * * *
Catherine selected a gown made of pale peach silk to wear on her wedding day. Her fingers shaking, she methodically moved through the motions of preparing for the ceremony. How would she survive condemnation to a living purgatory? After the nights she’d spent with Jason, how could she resign herself to warming the bed of a cold-eyed old man with a half-dozen teeth left in his grizzled head?
Unable to contain her misery any longer, she sank to the edge of the bed. Brushing away the salty drops, she composed herself, wiped the tear stains from her face and began to arrange her hair. The unruly strands resisted her best efforts to sweep the copper mane into a soft bun. After a brief struggle, she pinned the thick tresses into place and lifted her hand mirror to survey the results. Gazing at her reflection, she saw a stranger who would soon be the bride of her father’s largest creditor. She was his to barter, and her father had negotiated quite a bargain for himself.
By nightfall she would be married to a man who had buried three wives, a man who desired an heir above all else. He was a squat, hairy troll whose breath smelled of decaying teeth and cheap rum. Josiah Wright’s courtship consisted of scrutinizing her from head to toe, cupping her bottom in his hands, and haggling over the terms of the marriage with her father.
“Catherine, don’t dawdle, girl,” her father’s voice boomed through the door. “You don’t want to keep him waiting.”
She smiled wanly. It seemed even her father couldn’t bring himself to refer to the man she would marry by his given name.
“No, you wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” A deep male voice, husky and sensuous, unleashed waves of longing through her body. Cathy froze, convinced she was on the verge of losing her mind. Had the prospect of marriage to Josiah Wright shattered her sanity?
A low, throaty laugh warmed her heart. “You act as if you’re in the presence of a ghost.”
She whirled around. Arms folded casually, Jason Kane lounged by the window. The satisfied smile on his lips betrayed his amusement. Her pulse raced at the sight. Dressed in black from head to toe, he regarded her as though appearing in her bedroom on her wedding day was an ordinary occurrence.
“Are you afraid of specters, my love?” he asked, closing the distance between them.
She met his words with a wary stare. Would she be able to hide the longing in her soul? “Do I have cause to be?” she asked finally.
He toyed with her auburn curls. “Possibly.” His fingers trailed a path to her mouth. “I hear you are to be married.”
She nodded and lowered her gaze. She couldn’t bear to let him see her tears.
“I can’t let that happen.” Jason’s smooth tones sheathed a lethal edge.
Emotion choked her. “I have no choice,” she said finally. “My father arranged the terms. He will benefit considerably when I speak my vows.”
Jason gripped her upper arms without violence, dragging her to him, crushing her softness to the hard planes of his chest. Cathy thrilled to the steady beat of his heart. Her senses drank in the feel of him, the heady masculine scent that was his alone. “I will not let you marry that old lecher,” he breathed against the tender column of her throat.
The warmth of hope washed over her. But caution and fear reined in her joy. She faced him skeptically. “Am I to be a pawn in your revenge yet again?”
Holding her close, he kissed her, his tongue mingling with hers in gentle possession, inflaming her senses with his potent need. Her heartbeat thudded against her chest in delicious anticipation.
He released her, his breath ragged against her nape. “I’m taking you with me, but this has nothing to do with revenge.”
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, burying her face against the unyielding plane of his chest.
His hands cupped her bottom, pressing her to the indisputable evidence of his male hunger. Heat enveloped her. “I want you with me, Catherine.”
“Am I to be your prisoner then?” Her voice grew stronger. She needed to know he valued her as something more than the spoils of his quest for revenge.
Jason’s eyes filled with a yearning she’d never dreamed he possessed. “No, Cathy. Not a prisoner.”
“And if I refuse?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Then I will simply have to convince you,” he murmured against her ear, nipping her lobe between his teeth. His lips trailed a fiery path down her throat. “I want you with me. In my arms. In my bed.”
Heat filled her entire body. She wanted him with every fiber of her being. But how cold she believe he cared for her? The idea seemed little more than a foolish hope. She steeled herself to resist him. “I can’t do this. Papa would never forgive me.”
His gaze darkened dangerously. “Your father was willing to sell you to the highest bidder.”
“There are many women who would willingly become your mistress.” She bit off the words between her teeth. “You don’t need me.”
He pressed desperate kisses against her flesh, devouring her resistance, as hungry for her touch as a man condemned to a diet of bread and water who’d stumbled upon a king’s feast.
“You’re wrong, Cathy. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life.” His voice sounded low and raw. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
She wriggled against him, struggling against his embrace. Giving in to him would be dangerous. If he broke her heart again, she doubted she’d survive it.
Seeming to read her apprehension, he took hold of her shoulders and tipped her chin so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “I need you, Cathy. Only you…” He paused for a moment, scanning her face for a hint of her reaction. “You will be my wife. If I have to carry you off and make love to you every day until you agree to speak the vows, you will be mine.”
“Wife?” Cathy echoed.
“Wife.” Jason’s broad smile caressed her as surely as his touch. “After all, I can’t have you worrying about being a respectable woman.”
Emboldened by her joy, she issued a challenge. “Will you take me away then, Captain Kane?”
Without another word, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the window. He swung a booted leg over the ledge and wrapped his strong hands around her waist.
“I doubt this will conjure a romantic memory in our dotage,” he chuckled as he lifted her up and rested her over his shoulder.
Dizzy with joy and love, she laughed. “This will stand vividly in my memory.”
When his feet landed on the ground, he strode confidently to his ebony stallion. Jason settled her on the saddle, allowing her legs to hang freely over the side, then joined her there. His arm coiled around her middle while his strong legs flanked her bottom.
“I should be thankful your gown is of the classical style. If you’d worn a more cumbersome garment, I would have needed to tear it right from your body.”
Cathy’s heart seemed to skip a beat. “I’d prefer you save that act for a time when it may be savored.”
His warm breath tingling against her neck, he spurred his mount to a furious pace. Jason’s hold tightened. Drawn tightly to him, her bottom pressed against his erect shaft. She twisted a bit, coiling her arms around his shoulders. Cathy drank him in. With thick, dark stubble edging his jaw and his eyes the deep, rich hue of mahogany, he might indeed have been a fallen angel seeking redemption—redemption he’d find in her trust…in her love.
“Captain Kane, now that you have me, what will you do?”
His mouth slanted over hers, his kiss fleeting and tender. “I’ll love, you, Cathy. Now and forever.”
About the Author
Tara Kingst
on is a multi-published author of sensuous historical romance and erotic romance. She’s particularly fond of seductively wicked alpha heroes with a taste for spirited heroines. She pens sizzling romances that capture the rich array of emotions accompanying that most fabulous human phenomenon—falling in love.
When she’s not writing or researching her next story, Tara enjoys spending time with her own hero, hiking, biking, reading romances and biographies, visiting wineries or relaxing on the beautiful beaches of the Outer Banks of North Carolina.
Tara welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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