Captive Kisses (Sweetly Contemporary Collection) (22 page)

“I suppose so,” she murmured at last.

“Besides, you aren’t the one with the scars.”

She flicked a glance at the place where his lip had been
cut, now nearly healed, then looked away again. “I wish I had left more.”

“Maybe you did, with your play-acting, pretending to be
coming around, to be falling for me.”

“I wasn’t the only one! What about the things you said and
did on the veranda in full view of who knows how many people?”

He smiled, his dark eyes bright. “Does that rankle, that I
didn’t mean it? Or is it the public performance that you object to?”

“I was only pointing out that you aren’t exactly an innocent
party,” she said, sitting up higher in the bed. “As to objecting, I don’t
suppose I can, that much, since it was in a good cause.”

“An extremely reasonable attitude. I’m glad you absolve me
of blame. On the other hand, I’m not quite so forgiving.”

“What — what do you mean?” she asked, suspicion threading
her tone.

“I’m talking about our truce. You were supposed to relax and
stop fighting me. You trusted me, remember?”

The soft timbre of his voice seat a shiver along her spine. “You
can’t condemn me for using the only means I had left to get around you when I
had no idea what you meant to do.”

“Do? I told you that you were safe.”

“But you certainly didn’t act like it, and I heard you tell
George that you had plans for me. That didn’t sound like anything I wanted to
stick around for.”

He frowned, then his teeth flashed in a grim smile. “I meant
to take you fishing, and generally put you on view to make our being here less
conspicuous, as three males keeping to themselves.”

“How could I know that?” She slanted him a look dark with
resentment.

“You couldn’t, but you still didn’t have to break our truce,
especially after you had been warned.”

Kelly tried for a light laugh. “All that is over now. It
doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Oh, but it does.” He reached out to take the cup from her
hand and set it aside. His movements were slow and almost menacing.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Why?
What difference does it make?”

“You gave me your promise, and you broke it. If I let you
get away with this, how can I trust you in more important matters?”

“To me, it was a question of life or death. I don’t like to
be melodramatic, but how much more important can it get?”

“It was life or death for me, too; my father’s, the senator’s.”
He caught her wrist in his strong fingers, drawing her toward him.

“Charles,” she said with a catch in her voice, “don’t.”

“You smiled at me, all sweetness and provocation, with such
a warm glow in your eyes. You brushed against me with such touching innocence,
as if you had no idea what you were doing to me. I wanted you. I dared to hope,
and you let me because that was what you wanted all the time. For me to hope.
That was your greatest mistake.”

“No.”

His arms closed around her, their grip like iron bands. His
eyes burned into her with the darkness of desire. She could feel the hard beat
of his heart, and the suffocating throb of her own as he pulled her across his
lap and, with slow strength, lowered her to the bed on her back. As he hovered
above her braced on one elbow, she knew a treacherous weakness, a longing to
dose her eyes and accept what would come.

“Please, Charles,” she whispered, and was not sure for what
she pleaded.

“There is one thing that may be in your favor,” he told her,
his voice taut and low. “When I followed you from the veranda, when you saw the
man with the gun, you called out something to me. What was it?”

She stared up at him, trying to think. “It was — I don’t
know.”

“I think you do, Kelly. Tell me.”

“I — only told you to go back.”

“You warned me of danger, even when you thought I was a
kidnapper, or worse?”

“I guess so,” she answered, lowering her lashes.

“You know so. Why, Kelly? Tell me why?”

Closing her eyes tightly, she shook her head. “I can’t.”

“You can, and you will, if you know what’s good for — both
of us.”

The strain in his tone communicated itself to Kelly. She
opened her eyes, seeing the pain mirrored in his dark gaze, and the
uncertainty. It was the latter, so out of character for him, that touched her,
bringing the shimmer of tears she could not hide.

“Chérie,” he breathed, “dear God, don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it,” she said, her voice breaking. “It seems
to be — the way loving you — affects me.”

“Ah, chérie.” He crushed her to him, rocking her slowly in
his arms. “It was no act when I said I loved you. Je t’adore, I adore you.
Nothing could be more real than that to me. When I said those words I had
forgotten everything except what I felt for you and how beautiful you were.”

His mouth found hers then in a kiss that was warm, and edged
with tender passion, carefully leashed. His hand cupped her face, and between
soft murmurs of love in two languages, he brushed his lips over her forehead,
her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and downward over her throat.

“Charles?” she said, slowly running her fingers over the
back of his neck. “If I had not said I loved you —”

He stopped her there, irresistibly drawn to that word on her
lips.

“If I hadn’t said it,” she persevered when she had breath, “what
would you have done?”

He went still. “I don’t know. I will show you what I wanted
to do, had planned to do, after we are married.”

“Are we going to be married?”

“But of course.”

She did not mind at all, she found, the arrogance of his
tone, though it would be best if he didn’t know it. “I don’t remember being
asked.”

He raised his head so he could look at her, a smile lurking
in his eyes. “Do you want to be — knowing my method of assuring I get the
answer I want to hear?”

“Would it be so terrible if I said yes?” She shielded her
gaze with her lashes, though she did not miss the leap of flame deep in his
eyes.

“It would be enchanting.”

“Well?”

“I think I will deny you the privilege, for both our sakes.”

She worked that out in her mind. “I’m not sure I like that.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“If I don’t get a proposal, do I still get to marry you?”

“It’s mandatory.”

“That sounds as if I don’t have a choice.”

“Call it the consequences of breaking our truce. You will never
get away from me.”

With the tip of one finger and a feather touch, she traced
along his cheek, then, around the chiseled outline of his mouth. “Suppose I don’t
want to — get away, I mean?”

He gave a sigh of mock despair. “Is there no way I can
punish you as you deserve?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her gray eyes wide, “don’t kiss me.”

It was, of course, an impossible condition.

Since publishing her first book at age twenty-seven,
New
York Times
bestselling and award-winning author Jennifer Blake has gone on
to write over sixty-five historical and contemporary novels in multiple genres.
She brings the story-telling power and seductive passion of the South to her
stories, reflecting her eighth-generation Louisiana heritage. Jennifer lives with
her husband in northern Louisiana.

~ ~ ~

To find out more about Jennifer’s books, see the Steel
Magnolia Press website at
www.steelmagnoliapress.com
.

Purchase Steel
Magnolia Press ebooks direct from Amazon.com at:
http://smarturl.it/smp
.

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Jennifer would love to hear from you! Other places to connect
with her:

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If you enjoyed this work, please leave a review to help
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Enjoy 5 More Romances In

THE
SWEETLY
CONTEMPORARY COLLECTION

http://smarturl.it/smp

~ ~ ~

The
Abducted Heart

He called her a stowaway. She called him a
kidnapper. What better way could a romance start?

Anne Matthews, delivering a catered dinner to Ramón
Castillo’s private plane, is surprised as it takes off for Mexico with her
still aboard. But she’s incensed when dynamic, wealthy Ramón assumes she’s a
fortune hunter with an unusual method of getting close to him.

Anne fully intends catching the next plane back to the
States. But a series of weird mix-ups force Ramón to offer her a job as his
temporary fiancée. Although drawn to the handsome Mexican and his rich and
fascinating Aztec heritage, Anne has serious misgivings about the game he
plays. To fall in love is certainly against the rules…

~ ~ ~

April
of Enchantment

Room for Love…

Laura Nichols is no amateur at historical
preservation, and the elegant 19th-century Louisiana mansion, Crapemyrtle,
promises to be the perfect showcase for her talent. After her first infuriating
meeting with its handsome new owner, Justin Roman, she’s determined to prove
the house can be both breathtaking and ready in time for his wedding. But if he
doesn’t trust her abilities, why does he give her the final say on any changes
to be made, even over his fiancée’s objections and growing jealousy?

As the wedding date approaches and the mansion nears
completion, can Laura bear the thought that she will never live in it with
Justin…?

~ ~ ~

Bayou
Bride