he didn’t want it.
He captured her hand midwave. It felt natural to bring her fingers to his lips. To make her promises. “He won’t touch you, Bella.”
There was a long pause. Her gaze searched his for answers to questions she wouldn’t voice. He didn’t think she was even aware how tightly she clung to him. “I pray daily for that miracle.”
“Then you can stop praying.”
Another pause. She took a deep breath. He found he was inhaling right along with her. A flush rose to her cheeks, emphasizing her youth. He couldn’t follow her there. He didn’t think he’d ever been as young as she was, ever had such innocence. But he had easily been as desperate. Tucking her hand against her chest, he took over fastening the buttons of her shirt. “You don’t have to bargain with your body, duchess. My protection won’t cost you a thing.”
“That is good.” To his surprise, she opened her shirt back up, not all the way and not without a new flush spreading over her creamy skin, but enough to tease him with the silky inner curves and the shadowed hollow between. “Because what I want between us should not have a price.”
“Everything comes with a price.”
“Then maybe this price I want to pay.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
She nodded. “Ah, so it is not for me you fear.”
No one had ever looked at him with such softness and understanding. He didn’t like it.
“The hell it’s not. A whore’s future isn’t pretty.”
She blinked, and the softness left her expression as if it had never existed. Her spine snapped straight. “You will apologize for that, Sam MacGregor.”
“Why the hell should I apologize for the truth?”
She pushed off his lap, gasping from the pain, and turned around. She was kneeling so her face was level with his. This close there was no mistaking she was ticked. She poked her finger into his chest. “Because it was mean and I did not deserve it.”
“Why should I care?”
She sighed and shook her head. “Because my feelings are damaged and because you like me.”
This was her with her feelings damaged? He opened his mouth. She cut him off.
“In case your eyes have not seen, this is a time for soft words. Nice words. Words of apology.”
“I wasn’t calling you a whore, but—”
Holding up her hand, she glared at him. “Know that if you ask me another question that I must answer with ‘because,’ I will cry.”
Son of a bitch. “Are you blackmailing me?”
She shook her head and touched his shoulder fleetingly before sitting back on her heels. “I am just tired and sore and I have not much resistance left.”
That might be a tear in her eye.
“So you’re going to cry?”
“Men do not like tears.” Her lips trembled, then firmed. “I understand this, but I do not think mine will stay away much longer if you continue to damage my feelings.”
“Hurt my feelings.”
“Damage. Hurt. What difference does it make?”
Not a bit, and she was right. He hated to see any woman cry, especially Bella. And she understood that and warned him, because to her that was fair play. He didn’t think he’d ever met another woman like her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. She left him too off balance. He sighed. “What do you want from me, Bella?”
“I’m afraid to ask now.”
She wasn’t afraid of anything. “Ask.”
It was practically a growl.
Instead of flinching in fear, her eyes heated with hunger.
She caught his hand and brought it to her breast, straightening his fingers one by one until they straddled the hollow and flattened against the succulent flesh on either side. “Will you give me pleasure, Sam? Will you teach me to be a woman?”
In the end it was an easy decision to make. He cupped his fingers behind her neck, drawing her forward into the press of his palm, feeling her heart leap, hearing her breath catch. Oh, yeah, he’d teach her. “Better than that, I’ll teach you to be my woman.”
7
“L ean back.”
Leaning back meant making
He captured her hand midwave. It felt natural to bring her fingers to his lips. To make her promises. “He won’t touch you, Bella.”
There was a long pause. Her gaze searched his for answers to questions she wouldn’t voice. He didn’t think she was even aware how tightly she clung to him. “I pray daily for that miracle.”
“Then you can stop praying.”
Another pause. She took a deep breath. He found he was inhaling right along with her. A flush rose to her cheeks, emphasizing her youth. He couldn’t follow her there. He didn’t think he’d ever been as young as she was, ever had such innocence. But he had easily been as desperate. Tucking her hand against her chest, he took over fastening the buttons of her shirt. “You don’t have to bargain with your body, duchess. My protection won’t cost you a thing.”
“That is good.” To his surprise, she opened her shirt back up, not all the way and not without a new flush spreading over her creamy skin, but enough to tease him with the silky inner curves and the shadowed hollow between. “Because what I want between us should not have a price.”
“Everything comes with a price.”
“Then maybe this price I want to pay.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
She nodded. “Ah, so it is not for me you fear.”
No one had ever looked at him with such softness and understanding. He didn’t like it.
“The hell it’s not. A whore’s future isn’t pretty.”
She blinked, and the softness left her expression as if it had never existed. Her spine snapped straight. “You will apologize for that, Sam MacGregor.”
“Why the hell should I apologize for the truth?”
She pushed off his lap, gasping from the pain, and turned around. She was kneeling so her face was level with his. This close there was no mistaking she was ticked. She poked her finger into his chest. “Because it was mean and I did not deserve it.”
“Why should I care?”
She sighed and shook her head. “Because my feelings are damaged and because you like me.”
This was her with her feelings damaged? He opened his mouth. She cut him off.
“In case your eyes have not seen, this is a time for soft words. Nice words. Words of apology.”
“I wasn’t calling you a whore, but—”
Holding up her hand, she glared at him. “Know that if you ask me another question that I must answer with ‘because,’ I will cry.”
Son of a bitch. “Are you blackmailing me?”
She shook her head and touched his shoulder fleetingly before sitting back on her heels. “I am just tired and sore and I have not much resistance left.”
That might be a tear in her eye.
“So you’re going to cry?”
“Men do not like tears.” Her lips trembled, then firmed. “I understand this, but I do not think mine will stay away much longer if you continue to damage my feelings.”
“Hurt my feelings.”
“Damage. Hurt. What difference does it make?”
Not a bit, and she was right. He hated to see any woman cry, especially Bella. And she understood that and warned him, because to her that was fair play. He didn’t think he’d ever met another woman like her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. She left him too off balance. He sighed. “What do you want from me, Bella?”
“I’m afraid to ask now.”
She wasn’t afraid of anything. “Ask.”
It was practically a growl.
Instead of flinching in fear, her eyes heated with hunger.
She caught his hand and brought it to her breast, straightening his fingers one by one until they straddled the hollow and flattened against the succulent flesh on either side. “Will you give me pleasure, Sam? Will you teach me to be a woman?”
In the end it was an easy decision to make. He cupped his fingers behind her neck, drawing her forward into the press of his palm, feeling her heart leap, hearing her breath catch. Oh, yeah, he’d teach her. “Better than that, I’ll teach you to be my woman.”
7
“L ean back.”
Leaning back meant making
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