Her One True Love

by Rachel Brimble

  What in God’s name have I done?

  Matthew squeezed his eyes shut in order to regain his composure. Jane had tasted like the sweetest chocolate, her lips softer than any he’d ever sampled. They were soft, yet hot, as though a fire smoldered just beneath the surface of her skin. God, and now he longed to stoke the flames and experience them coming alive.

  His cock twitched, and he cursed his absurdity.

  Forcing his eyes open, he turned. Jane stared ahead, her spine rigid and her face a mask to whatever thoughts circled within her mind. Swallowing the shame balled in his throat, Matthew reached out to touch her before dropping his hand onto his thigh. To touch her when he was in such want of her could only be detrimental to them both. “Jane, I’m sorry.”

  She snapped her head around, her chin high and her hazel eyes burning with indignation. “Why?” Her voice was a harsh whisper. “Because you regret acting on a much-felt desire? Or that my naïve kissing was not up to your experienced standard?”

  “What? Of course not.” He reached for her hand.

  She trembled.

  “I had no right to kiss you. You have asked for my help, my support, and I did something like that. I’m sorry.”

  She eased her hand from his, her eyes blazing with anger. “Why are you never truthful? Are you attracted to me, Matthew? Because if you are, own it as I have had to.”

  He stared, as disbelief and an innate burst of pleasure soared through him. He smiled. “You’re attracted to me? How long—”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  He fought his smile, but it was impossible to erase. “Jane, I had no idea. I thought you only saw me as your friend, your squire. If for one moment, I had—”

  “Stop. I don’t want to hear futile declarations from you now.” Her cheeks were dark with color. “Not when you are married. Anyone might have seen us kiss. Might presume you an adulterer and I your mistress.”

  He looked about the auditorium as the audience filed toward the exits. “Why should anyone have cause to look at us?”

  But hadn’t he acted as she said?

  He faced her and drew his gaze over her beautiful face, unable to speak because he hadn’t pulled away from her for any of the reasons she named, but for another reason entirely. He had to cease the kiss or God only knew what would happen the next time they were alone if he were to act on the lust pumping through his veins.

  He looked toward the auditorium once more. “I couldn’t care less what these people think of me. It’s your reputation I am concerned for, not mine. If it was all about me, then—”

  “You would ravish me right here and now? Take me in your arms and make love to me?” She glared, her shoulders trembling.

  Desire whirled like an eddy in his stomach. “What do you want me to say? I shouldn’t have kissed you? I shouldn’t want you? God in heaven, Jane. If I could change my circumstances, don’t you think I would?”

  She tilted her chin. “But why now? Why do you have these feelings for me now? All this time . . .” She closed her eyes and pursed her lips as though trapping further words inside. Opening her eyes, she abruptly stood and hastily smoothed her skirts, her gaze averted to the task. “I’d like to go home now.”

  Matthew stood and stared at her bowed head as passion and frustration burned. The woman was a fireball under an exterior of duck down. The combination was irresistible. She was sorely mistaken if she thought their evening would end with the carriage ride back to her house. She was attracted to him, and he to her. They would talk, maybe even make plans for what happened next between them if she would allow it. Now that he knew she had feelings for him too, his mission to court her held more merit than ever.

  Picking up his hat, he offered her his arm. Her chin high, she slid her hand onto his elbow and they exited the box. Tension thickened with their every step, sexual awareness slipping through Matthew’s blood like he’d never felt before. She was a woman of means, a woman capable of caring for an ailing parent or a crying babe. She was strong and forthright, aware and informed. He curled his hand into a fist. He wanted her for his own. To possess her, protect her.

  God almighty, he wanted to cause her to cry out in satisfaction in his bed. Laugh as he joked and teased her. Make her smile and feel happy and safe in whatever it was she wanted to do.

  He clenched his jaw. Where had this ardent urgency to make love to her come from? Was it the look of defiance in her eyes that stirred his desire? The heat beneath her kiss? Or the fact that now she was here, in the city, where any man might claim her, making him want to see love, for him and only him, in her eyes?

  Self-hatred coiled like an old rope inside him as they stepped from the theater and into the night’s semidarkness. Matthew donned his hat. “We will have to wait here for a hackney. One should be along short—”

  “Then we’ll walk. I have no wish to stay with you a moment longer than necessary.”

  A smile threatened, cooling a little of the dangerous heat that swirled in his blood. He pursed his lips, knowing if she were to witness his amusement, the height of her temper might result in him enduring a slapped cheek. “As you wish.”

  Side by side, their arms entwined, they walked. Words bit at Matthew’s tongue, but he held them back, wanting Jane to break the silence. He waited. Then waited some more, until his nerves were stretched to breaking—still he didn’t speak. The longer the silence, the more his lust abated, but maybe more perilously, the more amorous the words he wanted to say.

  He trod upon very dangerous ground.

  Once they entered the Circus, she increased her pace as if she wanted to run for her house situated at the end of the terrace. The notion that she was so desperate to be away from him snapped Matthew’s restraint in two. He refused to have her dislike him now. Not when he would do all in his power to orchestrate a future in which he could freely love her.

  He frowned. “I’ve apologized for kissing you. There is no need to treat me as though I am diseased.”

  She shook her head and tutted, continuing forward, only to draw to a halt outside the pathway of her house. She tipped her head back and met his gaze. “For your information, I have no regrets about our kiss. I only regret that I wasted my energy by matching your fervor during that brief moment of madness. You are clearly confused, and suffering, after Elizabeth’s infidelity. I think it best you return to Biddestone in the morning.” She looked to her purse and removed her key. “I will do well enough alone at the Board tomorrow. I thank you for your offer to accompany—”

  “I am coming with you whether you want me there or not.” His amusement at her frayed temper vanished the instant she mentioned Elizabeth. Rather than cooling his desire for her, the reference echoing Adam’s that Matthew suffered from some kind of heartbreak that caused an inability to think straight was about as much as he would stand for.

  She glared. “I said I wish to go alone.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Why, you—”

  “Walk with me.” He grasped her elbow and stepped away from the house.

  She yanked away from him and he released her.

  Their gazes locked.

  Her bright hazel eyes shone with anger, her body rigid, but for the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Turning around, he stepped along the path, relief speeding his heart when he heard her exasperated sigh followed by her hurried footsteps behind him. He slowed until she was at his side.

  She stared. “I demand to know where you are taking me.”

  “I am taking you nowhere, you are walking of your own free will.”

  She emitted a cry of frustration and hot satisfaction roared through his blood. The passion unfurling inside him was a new and exciting sensation. Through all the years of trying to ignite any sort of flame in his relationship with Elizabeth, nothing like this barely controlled heat had swept over him before.

  For the first time in two long ye
ars, life and energy stirred in his blood—and it was Jane who had caused it. With sudden clarity, Matthew sensed he would succeed at whatever he put his mind to, without fear of condescension and ridicule, with Jane by his side. Whenever he was with her, he did not fight the urge to escape, desperate for distance from her, as he had with Elizabeth. Instead, he wanted to be close . . . preposterously close.

  Her words and subsequent dismissal of him had stirred awake animalistic feelings that had no place around a lady, yet Jane was a woman like no other. There was no doubt in his mind, she would match his passions and he intended to test the theory right there and then.

  “Matthew, if you continue on this magical mystery tour, I will have no choice but to assume you are leading me somewhere I have no desire to go. You are no gentleman. You are—”

  “In here.” He led her into an alley. “I want to try something.”

  “You want to . . .” Her eyes widened as her gaze darted around the darkened space. “What on earth has gotten into you? Are you mad?”

  He eased her against the wall and she stared at him, her eyes wide with confusion, yet absent of fear. An assured sign she trusted him—even if she did not particularly like him at that moment. He stepped closer and put his palms on the wall on either side of her face. Arousal, need, and want pulsed through him on a hot, undulating wave.

  “Why would you say I am still suffering from Elizabeth’s infidelity? I no longer care what she has done.”

  “You’re lying. Again.” She glared. “The least you can do is lend me your honesty. I might have been a fool to let you kiss me, but I will not stand by and let you disregard my intelligence in much the same way you have our kiss.”

  Irritation flared and he dropped his chin, grappling to maintain control and not show her with a second kiss how little he cared for Elizabeth. Jane’s harried breaths whispered across the fallen hair on his forehead.

  He lifted his chin and met her widened gaze. “I care about the failure to deliver on a dying promise to my father, that is all that concerns me. My anger and frustration, my misery, have nothing to do with something as ridiculous as lost love.”

  She flinched as though he’d struck her. “You think people who mourn over a lost love are ridiculous?”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  She stared at him, her chest rising and falling. “I want to leave. Move out of the way.”

  Matthew frowned. Were those tears in her eyes? “Do you not understand what I am saying?”

  She faced the entranceway of the alley and huffed out a laugh. “I understand you perfectly.”

  The derision in her tone was like a flint to a flame. Frustration sped his heart as he touched her chin and turned her face to his. “What do you mean?”

  Her eyes burned with anger. “I mean, you are not who I thought you were. It means you are cold and unfeeling. A man who has no time for love. I mean, the farther I am away from you, the happier I will be.”

  His heart beat fast with unexpected hurt and unwanted panic. He had finally seen the light of who this wonderful woman was, and instead of them embracing, his words and actions had extinguished the light from deep inside her.

  Taking a step back, Matthew swiped a hand over his face. “I will walk you home.”

  “Thank you.”

  She stepped forward and he halted her with a hand on her arm, his gaze searching hers as determination that she not despise or forget him rushed through his body. “This is my truth, Jane. My father’s wishes have haunted the entirety of my adult life.”

  She stilled.

  He clenched his jaw. “But of all the questions you have asked me, there is one you were absolutely right to ask.”

  She frowned. “Which was?”

  “Am I mad.”

  A flash of concern passed through her gaze before she straightened her spine. “Why was I right to ask you that? Because you are displaying your insanity by bringing me into this dark, dank alley where one scream from me and the police might come running?”

  “Not at all. I believe I am quite mad and growing madder every day. You . . .” He shook his head, roaming his gaze over her face to rest on her beautiful, soft mouth. “I have never seen this passion, this unshakeable confidence in you when we were in Biddestone. In just a few days, the city has brought you alive. It is that which might just send me quite insane if I am forever barred from witnessing it over and over again. You’re . . .” Impatience to taste her again tore through him. To halt it would be fruitless. “Damnation.”

  Matthew cupped his hands to her jaw and claimed her mouth.

  She stiffened before mewing softly into his mouth and gripping his shoulders. She pulled him forward and increased the intensity of her kiss, sending every ounce of adrenaline to his cock. For the love of God. He moaned and stepped closer to grasp her waist, bringing her flat against his chest. Her breasts pressed against him, sending his arousal higher. He put his tongue to hers, and she returned his claim by meeting him with equal intensity.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she murmured and trembled against him. He held her tighter and kissed her deeper until he pulled back, fearing he might devour her whole if he continued.

  Their gazes locked, and their harried breaths fell into sync. Her eyes were heavy with lust and his groin ached with need. With her hair mildly disheveled, her eyes wide and wild, she had never looked more beautiful or more perilous to his heart and mind.

  He released her and stepped back.

  Chapter 12

  Jane’s fingers trembled as she pushed the key into the lock of her front door and entered the house. Awareness of Matthew following her inside, and her traitorous desire for him, skittered over the surface of her skin. She waited, hoping for her previous determination to quash her feelings for him to return, but nothing but her love remained. Maybe it wasn’t just Matthew she should accuse of losing his mind, but herself too.

  It was futile denying her want of him. She did, so much, but that didn’t mean she would default on her decision not to commit adultery or banish her need to become the woman she wanted to be.

  The door closed behind her, and Jane briefly closed her eyes before she turned to face him. His gaze burned with a raw need she hadn’t seen before, his pallor more pale than it had been all evening. Fear of the unknown rose and lodged in her chest as she took a step toward him.

  A creak on the stairs halted her.

  “Jane? Is that you?” Jeannie’s voice drifted from above.

  Jane kept her gaze on Matthew’s. “It’s me, Jeannie. Go back to bed. I’ll be up shortly.”

  “Is Squire Cleaves with you? You didn’t walk home alone, did you?”

  Jane smiled softly. “No, the squire is here. I am quite all right.”

  “Good. Night, night, Jane. ’Night, Squire.”

  Matthew smiled, his gaze not leaving Jane’s. “Good night, Jeannie.”

  Jeanne’s footsteps faded as she returned to her bedroom.

  Ensconced in tense silence once more, Jane took a deep breath. “We can’t pursue this, Matthew. I won’t commit adultery with you.”

  “I would neither ask nor expect such a thing.”

  Jane closed her eyes. “I don’t know what to think or say.” She opened her eyes. “All I know is the disappointment I felt when you spoke with such scorn about people who mourn lost love. It hurt.” She blinked against the stinging in her eyes. “There are so many people you have known, or still know, who have suffered the pain of losing someone they love. It isn’t right you should dismiss such feelings as petty.”

  “Jane.” He closed the space between them and took her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just—”

  “No. You need to understand.” She eased her hand from his and shook her head, her heart beating fast. “When you said those things, I never wanted to look at your handsome face again, then you took me in your arms and kissed me. Then . . . then I . . .”

  He reached for her again and again she stepped b
ack. “I wanted you more than ever before. I wanted your kiss again . . . maybe even invite you into my bed. What sort of woman does that make me? I am good and caring. Loyal and loving. If you make me feel these other things . . .”

  He stepped forward and this time grasped her hand tightly, his eyes burning with passion. “Then all it means is you care for me and want to be with me. Those feelings are nothing to be ashamed of. If you feel ashamed, then I am too. We can be together. I know we can. We just have to be patient.”

  Jane’s heart ached to see such deep anguish in his gaze. There was no rage, no anger, not even a trace of the moroseness she had seen so many times in his eyes during the preceding months. He stood in front of her as the true, loyal, and honest man she’d always loved and admired.

  All the months she fought her feelings for him and now he wished to be with her. Tears escaped and rolled over her cheeks. He brushed his thumbs under her eyes, and it took every ounce of her strength not to collapse against him and damn the right and wrong of her yearning.

  “Jane, please understand how hard it is for me to see you cry and not fix things to be with you overnight. What is starting between us, what I am feeling, cannot be ignored.”

  Jane took a strengthening breath. “I am not the same woman I was a year, even six months ago, Matthew. I’ve changed. You’ve changed. Neither of us should rush headlong into the idea of us being together when there are so many other people involved.”

  He frowned. “Like Elizabeth?”

  She nodded. “And the villagers. And for me, the children at the boardinghouse. I can’t stop my dream to do good now that I have found the courage to pursue it.”

  “Everything will work out. I will ensure it.”

  He smiled softly, the gentle determination in his gaze seeping deep inside her until impassioned hope squeezed like a vise around her weakening heart.

  He brushed the curls from her temple and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I have been blind. My sense of pride and loyalty to my father, a man who thought of me as little more than a cog in his ambitious wheel, has meant I wasted two years with a woman I tried hard to make happy. I refuse to waste any more of my life.”