He cupped her face, and this thumb stroked her skin then across her bottom lip. Her breathing grew rapid, and she couldn’t remove her attention away from his handsome face.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, darlin’.”
Her heart swelled, and she fought the tempting emotions raging through her. Biting her tongue, she held back what she wanted to tell him. Here in front of the others was certainly not the place to confess her love, but if he kept looking at her like that with his mesmerizing eyes, she’d throw propriety out the door and fall helplessly into his arms.
Chapter Seventeen
“What...did you say?” Cecilia’s voice cracked.
Peter grinned. “I want to take care of you,” he whispered.
Love for this man overrode all other thoughts, and she didn’t care about what anyone else said or thought. Releasing a heavy sigh, Cecilia leaned into him and pressed her lips against his. Surprise registered in his gasp, but seconds later, he held and kissed her back.
She wound her arms around his neck and tilted her head, turning the kiss wilder. Against his hard chest, his quick heartbeat met the rhythm of hers.
The chill in her body from earlier suddenly disappeared. She could stay this way all day and all night. Chuckles from behind pulled her from a passion induced mind, and she remembered those who watched.
Once again, heat consumed her face, and she pulled away, burying her head against Peter’s chest. Joyous laughter floated through the air, and even cheers rose while they clapped. Peter chuckled with them while he stroked her back.
Finally, a grin pulled on her lips, and she turned her head to look at those around her. The grin widened to a smile, and she laughed. Anna-Mae winked. Samuel and Kane whistled.
Nothing had been more right in her life than the man she cuddled against. As the night wore on, silence filled the air. The wind whipped around the house as the rain hit the roof, but it didn’t sound as if the hurricane was as strong now.
Little by little, her servants drifted to sleep. Anna-Mae leaned against the corner of the wall, and the men stretched out in the middle of the floor.
Peter continued to stroke Cecilia’s arm. Although her eyelids grew heavy, her mind wanted to remain alert, and her heart wanted to confess her love.
Gentle snores from Samuel and Kane drifted through the air, which made her more tired. How could she sleep when there so much weighed heavy on her mind?
Peter shifted on the floor, his arms staying around her. His mouth brushed the top of her head. She searched for his gaze through the darkness. The glow from the lantern didn’t give her the amount of light she wanted to stare into his dreamy eyes.
“You’re still awake?” he whispered.
She nodded, her cheek brushing against the soft texture of his shirt. “Who can sleep at a time like this?”
His chest shook with a silent chuckle, and he nodded to the others. “Apparently, they can.”
She smiled. “But they don’t have a lot on their minds.”
His knuckles caressed her cheek. “What’s on yours?”
Now was her chance. She wanted to tell him, and her heartbeat quickened with anticipation. She licked her dry lips and swallowed hard. “You are.”
He lowered his mouth and touched his lips to hers, but he kept the kiss brief. Disappointment washed over her, yet she knew this wasn’t the time to express her desire for him.
When he lifted his head, a smile stretched across his face. “You have been on my mind lately as well.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Good.”
She raised her hand and cupped the side of his face. “As much as I’ve tried to fight my attraction for you, I haven’t been able to.”
“I know.”
She arched a brow. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Not when I can read your feelings by your expression.”
She sighed and cuddled closer. “What do you suppose I’m thinking now?”
A soft chuckle came deep from his chest. “You want what I want—to be alone so we can talk...and kiss.”
She couldn’t stop the giggle that sprang to her lips. Quickly, she covered her mouth before she woke the others. She shook her head. “You are better at reading minds than I had thought.”
He took her hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed her fingertips. “Soon, my love. Soon I’ll make you mine.”
Her heart leapt. “You already have, Peter.”
His forehead crinkled. “I don’t understand.”
She placed her hand on his chest. “I’ve given you my heart.” She took a deep breath. “I love you, Peter.”
His expression relaxed, and his eyes darkened...if that were possible. “You...you love me?”
“Yes.”
He groaned and pulled her body against his, burying his face in the curve of her neck. “Oh, Cecilia. I love you so much.”
She turned her head, her lips searching for his mouth. When they touched his, sparks of heat ignited in her once again, but this time her heart expanded, feeling as if it would burst with happiness.
He kissed her hungrily, and she responded just as urgently. His hand stroked her arm before cupping her face.
“Cecilia,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ve wanted you to say that, but I didn’t think it was possible.”
She pulled back and smiled at him. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to love me more than money—more than gambling.”
He stroked her hair. “I do. Money means nothing to me. You are all that matters.”
Her heart sang with love again. Right now she wanted to have some private time with him to discuss their feelings in more depth and perhaps where they should go from this point in their relationship, and what to do about Hank.
She scooted out of his embrace and stood, holding her hands out to him. He took them and rose. “I think we should survey the damage upstairs. Don’t you agree?”
He glanced at the others still asleep on the floor and moved his gaze back to her. His grin widened. “That’s a splendid idea, my love.”
Walking ahead of her, he held her hand and led her through the hallways. She half expected to see the roof ripped open, but so far, everything looked normal. Even the boards remained intact on the windows. A sigh of relief passed through her.
“My love,” he asked softly, taking her in his arms. “Do you think it’s too soon to take you to your bedroom?”
A blush spread up her neck and over her face. She lowered her head to his chest. “Peter, I know you are used to doing that sort of thing with women, but I... Well, I’m not.” She heaved a nervous breath. “I told you once before that I’m not that type of woman.”
“Yes, I remember.”
She swallowed hard and hesitantly lifted her gaze to his. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t do that unless it was with my husband on our wedding night.”
He grinned and brushed a soft stroke across her cheek. “I understand.” He winked. “I suppose I shall just have to wait until after we are married, then.”
A gasp sprang from her throat and she widened her eyes. “Truly? You want to marry me?”
He chuckled and cupped her face. “My lovely lady, I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t go around telling women I love them. So, to give my heart to a woman, I will want her in my life forever.”
“Oh, Peter!” She squealed and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He withdrew only far enough to capture her lips with his own.
He pulled her to the sofa where they both fell upon it, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Exhilaration grew in her chest and she wanted to sing with joy. Hesitantly, she broke the kiss and stared deep into his eyes. “I have never been so happy.”
“Never?” he questioned.
“Never.”
He kissed her lips briefly. “Neither have I. I think we are perfect together.”
“I must agree wholeheartedly with that.”
> He chuckled and lovingly stroked her cheek. “Cecilia? Who do I need to ask for your hand in marriage?”
Her heart couldn’t have melted any more, yet she sucked in a quick breath. Did he need to get permission from anyone? Hank would definitely not approve of her marriage to Peter. And would he want to see her brother in jail?
Apparently, there were things she needed to tell Peter before they were wed. Those secrets she hadn’t wanted to tell him because she was too afraid.
Although being married to Peter would be a wonderful adventure, was he ready to hear the truth about her? And especially about her brother?
Chapter Eighteen
Peter wanted Cecilia with him forever. As he waited for her answer, he studied her fearful expression. He’d bet money that she was thinking about her brother. Peter still wanted justice for what happened to him, but if it meant making amends with her brother, then he’d do it. Yet right now, Cecilia was more important. He loved her more than life itself.
Her wide eyes bothered him. He’d expected her to cry in happiness, throw her arms around him, and kiss him senseless when he asked for her hand. What he didn’t expect was the silence...or the tight lines etched in her face.
Suddenly, her expression relaxed, and she smiled. “You don’t have to ask anyone but me.”
He nodded and stroked her cheek. “So what do you say? Does the thought of becoming my wife repulse you?”
“Not in the least.” She cuddled her face against his hand. “I think it’s a grand idea.”
He chuckled. “You don’t just love me because I’m a hardworking man who can stand by your side during the harvesting season?”
She tilted back her head and laughed. “It looks like you can see right through me, can’t you?”
“Yes, I can, darlin’.”
“Well, if you’re going to play that way, I would think the only reason you love me is to put food in your belly and offer a roof over your head.”
He grinned. “You’re close to the truth, my love.” He kissed her nose. “But it doesn’t matter if we live in a shack. I’ll love you no matter what.”
Cecilia’s smile relaxed. “And it doesn’t matter if you don’t help me with the harvesting, I’ll still love you, too.”
He stroked her arm. “As much as I don’t want to leave this cozy position, I think we need to return downstairs with the others. I’d hate for them to think something is going on between us and think badly of you.”
She sighed and laid her head against his chest. “You’re right. Although Anna-Mae knows I’m in love, I don’t want her thinking you have ruined me.”
He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “We’ll have a lifetime to be together.”
She raised her head and smiled at him. “That sounds wonderful.”
HANK SHIVERED IN HIS wet clothes as he stood beside the large oak tree in the yard and stared up at the boarded house. His heart sank. The place looked empty. The storm had been past for a while now. Servants should have been scurrying around the house checking for damage.
A lump formed in his throat, and he glanced across the field, now bare of cane stems. Somebody had finished the harvesting, but the house looked barren, too. Isolated because of the boarded windows.
Tears formed in his eyes, and he cursed his gambling habit. If he hadn’t put money first in his life, he wouldn’t be standing in front of a home he would never own again, shivering in the storm and hoping to die.
He’d earned some money, not quite enough to pay Mr. Grayson back, but close. Unfortunately, Hank never discovered who stabbed the man. Rose wasn’t any help. He even suspected she took his money when he wasn’t looking. If it hadn’t been for Zed Slater, Hank would probably still be in a gaming house right now. Had Zed been wrong about Mr. Grayson and Cecilia? Had his sister abandoned him, too?
The drizzle of rain continued to soak Hank clear through, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have anything to live for now.
Glancing back at the plantation, he stored away his memories and would reflect upon them later. Too painful to think about it now.
As he turned, a light caught his eye, and he gazed back at the house. The light grew brighter in the parlor. His heart beat with renewed life. Perhaps his sister was still there after all.
He ran to the front door and jiggled the handle. Tight at first, it soon loosened and opened. He listened closely for any voices. Nothing, so he stepped further inside and closed the door behind him. The Heavenly aroma from the kitchen made his stomach growl. Anna-Mae must have cooked venison. On tiptoes, he walked to the kitchen to see if there were any leftovers. As he dug through the icebox, the floor from the other room creaked and made him pause.
The whispered voices of a man and woman floated through the emptiness. Hank held his breath and crouched behind the table, grateful for the darkened room.
As the voices neared, he recognized the woman. Cecilia. Who was the man she giggled with? Didn’t sound like any of their servants.
They came near the kitchen, and Hank quickly backed into the pantry but peeked around the edge of the wall. The couple strolled into the kitchen, but the man pinned Cecilia against the wall with his large, muscular body. A purr-like sound released from his sister’s throat as she slid her arms around and linked her hands behind the man’s neck.
Anger spread through Hank. Who in the blazes was this man, and why was his sister playing the hussy? She knew better. She was taught better.
The man kissed Cecilia’s neck, and she sighed heavily. “Oh, Peter.”
“Yes, Mrs. Grayson?” the man said.
She chuckled. “I like the sound of that.”
Hank hitched in a quick breath. Peter Grayson? The very man who wanted Hank in jail? He squeezed his eyes closed and held back a groan of despair. When had they married? Now his life was ruined! If he couldn’t find the person responsible for Mr. Grayson’s stabbing, Hank would go to jail for it.
Only one thing could be done now. To make certain the charges against him were dropped, he somehow needed to get Peter Grayson out of the picture for good.
CECILIA THANKED THE Lord above that there was minimal damage to her house. The only thing damaged was Peter’s cottage. The strong winds ripped the roof clean off. Of course, the small cottage had been in need of major repairs before the storm, but now poor Peter didn’t have a place to stay.
Although it was improper, she would have him stay inside the house until the cottage was repaired...or until they were married. Happily, she sighed. Having him this close might be dangerous. Perhaps she’d have to marry him sooner rather than later. She grinned, liking the sound of that.
Everyone pitched in and helped Peter clean his cottage and carried his belongings into the house to one of the spare rooms. They all gathered outside to repair the things torn apart by last night’s storm.
Instead of hammering and cutting wood like Peter was supposed to do, he spent more time teasing Cecilia and tickling her. The others laughed at their playful banter, and Cecilia thought it was the best time in the whole world. She didn’t have a care, and those problems she should have been thinking about, she hid in the back of her mind until thinking about it became necessary.
Every time Peter walked by her, she ended up in his arms, and usually a kiss followed. Would married life be like this all the time? And what would their children look like? Would they take after her or him? Her heart softened. Hopefully, the boys would grow up to become strong men like their father. They’d certainly be handsome.
Large hands splayed over her back before winding around her middle. A hard body pressed intimately against her as soft lips brushed her ear.
“Hello, my love,” Peter’s deep, sensual voice whispered. “Day dreaming again?”
She chuckled, turned in his embrace, and slid her hands up his chest slowly. “Yes. Is there a problem with that?”
“Oh, no. Then again, you’re not accomplishing a thing.”
She caressed his freshly shave
n face. “You’re not getting much done, either.”
“Shhh...you weren’t supposed to notice.”
“My darling man, I think everyone has noticed.”
He glanced at the others and rested his gaze back on her. “They don’t seem to mind.”
“I don’t, either.”
He pulled her body closer. “Is it wrong of me to think I never want to leave your side? That I want to be like this forever?”
“I certainly hope there’s nothing wrong with thinking that way. I have been doing that for a while now.” Her voice came out deeper than she’d anticipated.
A deep growl came from his chest. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you endlessly.” He pecked a kiss on her nose. “We had better rush our wedding, you know.”
She smiled. “Once again, you have been reading my mind.”
When his mouth covered hers, she sighed heavily and clung to him. Waves of pleasure fell over her once again. Although an indecent embrace, she couldn’t tear herself away from him even if she tried.
Never would she get tired of this man loving her.
“Good Heavens, Miss Ashby! What has come over you?”
The familiar voice jerked her away, out of Peter’s arms, and toward Mr. Sterling who sat stiffly on his horse, glaring down at her. Her hands shook when she patted her hair then smoothed them down her dress.
“Mr. Sterling,” she said breathless. “I didn’t hear you ride up.”
“Obviously.”
Peter slid his hand around her waist, claiming her in public. Their improper kiss and heated embrace had declared that already.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. Sterling?” Peter asked sarcastically.
Fire practically shot out of Heath’s gaze as he aimed it toward Peter. “If you must know, I came to see how my neighbor fared in last night’s storm.”
“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Sterling, but as you can see, there was minimal damage, which we are repairing right now,” Cecilia said.
Heath raised his brows in a judgmental stare. “So that’s what you call it? To me it looked like two animals in heat.”
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