Temptation (A Temptation Novel) (18 page)

“Why don’t you have a beard?”

His brow furrowed slightly, followed by the explosion of a wide grin on his mouth. “I’ll let my beard grow when I get married.”

“Do you
have
to grow a beard?” I studied his face, trying to imagine it with a long, fuzzy beard, like his dad’s.

“Yes—it’s a rite of passage, and more important for the wife, the beard signifies that a man is married—and taken.” He looked sideways at me with a twinkle in his eyes, and the small smile quickly turned into an intimate smirk.

The sunlight was hidden behind the thickening clouds, and the fitful air was charged with a raw energy that seeped into my skin, making me feel amazingly alive at that instant. The feeling prompted me to temporarily forget my dad, and the even crueler reality that Noah was Amish and I wasn’t.

“Don’t you like beards, Rose?” he teased.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. It might be a little prickly when…kissing, to be honest.” I smiled shyly, risking a glance at him.

He laughed at that and smiled radiantly back at me. In a fluid motion his hand let go of mine. Nearly freaking me out, his firm, callused fingers were suddenly at my face, gently touching it. I stifled a gasp as his fingers ever so softly traced my cheekbone and then down to my chin and finally over my mouth, which parted slightly on its own, to my chagrin. Sometime during his exploration of my face, the horses had stopped and I didn’t even notice. A surge of pleasure traveled through my body, starting from where his fingers touched and spreading outward.

He lowered his hand, and I knew he was as affected as I was. He breathed out a rush of air and said, “Mmm-hmm, yeah, I could see how a beard might scratch an amazingly velvety face like yours.”

He took my hand again and the horses began to walk freely, our knees rubbing wonderfully, as Lady’s and Rumor’s sides bumped along.

“Did you know that our women never cut their hair?” he asked cautiously.

“Is that a rule that has to be followed, too?”

“Yes, another rule, but a good one, I believe. You’ve let your hair grow really long, so that wouldn’t be a difficult one for you to follow.” His eyes journeyed over my hair, and he nodded as if he was agreeing with himself.

“But I’ve had my hair trimmed many times before,” I contradicted.

“But you would never cut your hair short, would you?” His face was serious again and his voice sounded frustrated for some strange reason.

“I like to be able to wear it in a ponytail, so I suppose I wouldn’t cut it short. But it’s the idea of being able to make my own choices. I mean, whose business is it anyway if I wanted to chop all my hair off?” I said reproachfully, pursing my lips.

He let go of my hand and tentatively lifted his finger to a strand of hair resting near my elbow. Holding it between his fingers, he softly caressed it. Before I knew what he was going to do, he brought it to his face, touching his mouth to it, breathing it in. The gesture was incredibly sensual, and I could feel my blood rushing through my veins, almost achingly so, when he did it.

I had totally forgotten my little rant when he said, “Your husband’s business.” I sighed with disappointment when he let go of the hair, taking my hand again
. Is he ever going to kiss me?
I silently screamed.

“I think English women are too willing to make battles out of things they don’t need to.” He was hard-faced again.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at yourself, Rose. You have the most beautiful long, wavy hair that any girl could dream of, and you like it that way. And I love your hair and want to touch it and feel it, but…” He paused and with troubled eyes boring into me said, “But you’d go out and have it cut short to some hideous modern style just to prove the point that you could…and…” He obviously wanted to say more, but he had worked himself up into such a state that he just trailed off, shaking his head.

I really tried to hold it in, but seeing him so torn up about my hair, I made a loud snort, followed by a giggle. When his eyes shot back at me angrily, I bit my lower lip and promised him in a soft, inviting voice, “Don’t worry, Noah, I’m not going to cut my hair. Well, I’ll trim the ends to keep it healthy and all, but if it’s that important to you, I’d leave it long.” I had the dark feeling pushing against me that I had just promised more than keeping my hair long. What I said was more significant to him than it would be to a normal guy.

The tightness disappeared from his features. It was replaced with a warm smile and placidness in his eyes. I liked to see him happy, and would probably say about anything to see that smile on his face.

“Noah, why do your women wear caps all the time? Do they ever take them off?”

He sighed, sounding tired with my questions—or maybe he was worried that I wouldn’t like his answers.

With a faint smile he said, “The women do remove their caps at night…for their husbands.”

Seeing I was about to interrupt, he lifted his rein hand and motioned with a loose finger to his lips for me to shush. Then he went on to say, “A woman’s hair is a very seductive thing, Rose. It invites unwanted attention from men—other than the woman’s husband, especially hair like yours.” He sighed heavily, staring at me.

“Can’t you men control yourselves?” I asked sarcastically.

“It’s not a matter of control, Rose. It’s that a husband doesn’t want other men looking at his wife, coveting her. A wife should reserve her beauty for her husband, and no one else.” He instructed me as if I were mentally challenged, too ignorant to understand the fundamentals of life—his way of life anyway.

“It’s so much more comfortable having my hair down. Women shouldn’t have to be tortured just so their husbands can have their wife’s hair all to themselves. That’s just…dumb,” I argued. I was disappointed with myself for not coming up with a better word, but at the moment my annoyance with Noah was growing, distracting me.

He silently studied my hair for a moment before saying, “I can understand that. I love to see your hair blowing in the wind, but I also hated it when the other men noticed your beauty. Jealousy is a very frustrating emotion to deal with, I’ve learned lately.”

Yeah, I definitely knew what he meant about that. I almost had a nuclear meltdown when he said that his parents wanted to fix him up with the witchy Ella Weaver. Glancing at him now, and seeing the bothered look on his face, I couldn’t help being astonished that the gorgeous guy riding next to me liked me enough to get jealous about some other guys finding me attractive. I kept thinking that I would wake up any minute and discover that I’d dreamed Noah into existence just for my mind’s personal entertainment.

We reached the dark fairy woods as a gust of wind rustled the leaves of the trees, blowing the scents of the forest over the cornfield. I deeply inhaled the sharp pine smell that was mingled with the aroma of decaying leaves. Although an invisible force seemed to be pulling me to the path into the trees, I fought the impulse and began to rein Lady around at the place we had turned the last time.

Unexpectedly, Noah shook his head, and holding my hand firmly, he tugged me along with him and Rumor as they sped up to a trot, entering the quiet shade of the trees. Excitement bubbled up in me as a blast of cooler air from under the trees tickled my skin. I was immediately glad for my hoodie.

After a few minutes of hard trotting had forced me to start posting, Noah finally pulled up on his reins when we entered the sunshine of a small clearing in the middle of the forest. Several huge old trees were randomly littering the ground like a child’s giant Lincoln Log set, creating an oasis of late-afternoon light from the dark shade of the imposing trees that surrounded the clearing. With our sudden arrival, several squirrels bounded up the fallen trees, and rabbits scampered off in the undergrowth, rattled by our appearance. The feeling that this was a magical forest entered my mind again, and a peaceful kind of happiness filled me that I was here in this special place. And especially that Noah was with me.

In a fluid action, Noah jumped off Rumor. While I watched him, he amazingly took off the horse’s bridle, hanging it loosely on a broken branch of one of the felled trees.

“Are you going to just turn him loose like that?” I asked with concerned awe.

“Don’t worry, Rose. He won’t go anywhere.” Half smiling to himself, with his lips slightly twitching, he took my reins and motioned me to dismount.

Which I did, but on the way down I informed him, “You aren’t turning Lady loose like that. I wouldn’t trust her not to spook at something and bolt off into the trees. Then I’d never see her again.”

Laughing, he pulled a halter and lead rope out of his saddlebag and, holding them up in front of me, said, “I figured you’d say that. I came prepared.”

I let him take Lady, exchange the bridle for the halter and tie her to a tree, near where Rumor was standing. While he was doing that, I found a smooth section of one of the logs and sat down, watching Noah take care of my horse.

Normally, I would have done that myself, but for some strange reason I let him do it. As if I knew he wanted to take care of me—and a part of me wanted him to. That was mildly unnerving, I thought, admiring his tall, muscled body as he ambled over to me. Most guys his age weren’t built like that. He was even bigger than Sam, and I envisioned him making a great football player. It must be all the farmwork and building houses he did, I guessed. He hopped onto the log beside me, sitting very close but not quite touching. Glancing over at him, I wondered why he was just staring ahead into the trees with a pensive look on his suntanned face. Impatience and frustration rolled together inside me as I watched him ignore me. What was he waiting for?

As if he could read my thoughts, a grin appeared on his face, and breathing deeply he turned to look at me. I waited expectantly for him to do or say something. I was way too chicken to move a muscle.

He licked his lips and said in a deep, smooth voice, “So you’ve never been kissed, and I’ve never kissed anyone.”

Relief washed over me at his words—we’d both be each other’s firsts. But even though I was bubbling with happiness that he wouldn’t have a bunch of other girls to compare me to, I still could hardly breathe. My heart was pounding in my chest in a mad fury. When he leaned in closer, I swallowed hard, not knowing if I should keep my eyes open or close them. I was suddenly scared to death. I knew he knew it when he softly went, “Shh.” Slowly he brought his face to mine, but instead of going for my mouth, he touched his moist lips to my neck, just below my jawline. The feeling sent a tickling spark that jolted every part of my body to attention, especially deep down in the pit of my belly.

His mouth trailed softly, slowly along my neck and behind my ear, then over my ear and to my face, leaving a warm tingling wherever his mouth went. He was moving so deliberately slow that it was driving me insane. I wanted him to kiss me, to press into me. I wanted him closer. I was becoming impatient, when he whispered close to my ear, his hot breath caressing me, “Are you all right?”

Gulping, “Uh-huh, it feels so…good,” I breathed out in a whisper.

That’s what he needed to hear. With more force than I expected, his mouth was on mine, parting my lips, his tongue entering hungrily. I stifled a gasp, matching his hunger with my own. His one hand was in my hair, gripping it tightly, and his other hand was lower on my back, pushing me harder into his chest, until my breasts were pressed against him firmly.

My own hands had gone around his neck and I was weaving his thick, wondrous hair into my fingers, stroking the skin beneath. He groaned loudly, pulling his mouth away from mine to bring it to my neck, where he kissed deeply, sucking firmly on my neck for an instant, until I felt faint and dizzy. Just when I thought I’d explode with feeling, he brought his mouth back to mine. This time my mouth was open and waiting. Our tongues were probing, experimenting in a primal dance that even though we’d never been taught, we knew instinctively. And it all felt so wonderful, so right. I shouldn’t have worried about the kissing part. It came so naturally. I already felt like a pro and I’d only been doing it for a minute or so.

His hand slipped under my hoodie and the shirt beneath it to softly rub the bare skin of my back, while his mouth was still hot on mine. The feeling of his hands on my skin was wondrous, but then they began to travel higher, squeezing his fingers under my bra strap. The action caused me to tense, suddenly aware of what might happen if I didn’t do anything to stop it. The slight tension in my body was enough for Noah, though. He wrenched himself from me, breathing heavily and rubbing his forehead vigorously. He stood and walked away a few steps, pausing for some seconds before returning to me. In an abrupt movement, he grasped my hands and pulled me off the log and up to him. Cradling my body against his, he hugged me gently, rubbing my back—now from the outside of the hoodie.