The Prospect: The Malloy Family, Book 10 (14 page)

“We’re going to stop for a while.” He tried to ignore the smell of her as he spoke into her ear. Her scent was hitting him like he was a trained dog, salivating at the thought of just one taste. One little kiss. One little lick. One little suck.

Oh hell and damnation, his dick grew another inch in his drawers. Soon his circulation would be cut off and he’d fall off the damn horse. Jo had no idea what she did to him. Or what he wanted to do to her.

“Is there sufficient cover?” The way she spoke was always so proper. She sounded like a school marm. Until now, he never thought school marms were arousing. From what he’d seen, they were old, crotchety women with sharp rulers and bad dispositions. The delicious woman in his arms changed his mind about that right quick.

“The trees should hide us if we go deep enough.” He pulled the horse to a stop. “Why don’t you hop down first?”

“I find myself in a difficult situation, Declan. My hind end is asleep. I do not believe I will have sufficient strength to hop.” Her voice echoed with exhaustion. Guilt tore through him. Here he was imagining taking her amongst the leaves of the forest and she was fighting staying upright. Some fake husband he was.

Declan maneuvered himself off the horse and then reached up to pluck her off. He held her in his arms until she protested. Truth was, she felt good in his arms again. Like she belonged there.

“I believe I can stand. You may put me down.” She wobbled a bit at first, her hands pressed against her lower back, but she stayed upright. “I knew there was a reason I never rode horses.”

He frowned as he secured the horse’s reins to a nearby branch. “What do you mean you never rode?”

“I never learned to ride a horse, despite my best efforts. I walked everywhere in New York as all of my pupils were within a few miles of our home. On the way to Missouri, I rode in horse-drawn wagons, and from there in an oxen-drawn wagon, or walked on my two feet.” She shrugged. “I was never wealthy enough to have a horse.”

“You had a house and nice things.” He didn’t understand how she could never have ridden before. He’d come from very humble beginnings and didn’t have the niceties in life or the money to afford a horse. “I thought all rich girls rode horses.”

She laughed, a musical sound he had never heard before. It tickled up his skin to his ears. “I am far from a rich girl, Declan. I am a learned person because I chose to be, but my family emigrated from France. Everything we had was through hard work, my mother as a nurse and my father as a master carpenter. I might sound fancy, but I am an ordinary girl.”

“There isn’t an ordinary thing about you, lass.” He stared down into her brown eyes. The pink light of dawn lit them like tiny fires in the grayness, sparkling on the lenses of her spectacles. She was exquisite, a porcelain statue come to life. Wisps of brown hair blew gently in the breeze, caressing her cheek and lips. Declan couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing her if he tried. He cupped her cheeks and lowered his head slowly, giving her time to say no. She didn’t.

Her mouth was soft as rose petals but plump and perfect for kissing. He pressed small kisses across her lips, then found he couldn’t resist capturing them in full. She was untutored in the art but followed his lead. Her arms crept around his neck, and he took advantage, pulling her flush against his body. A tiny moan sounded in her throat, and an answering growl emerged from his.

He licked at the seam of her lips, begging for entry into the hot recesses of her mouth. She finally opened and he eased his way in, lapping at her tongue until she hesitantly responded. He shook with the need to dive in farther, to lose himself inside her.

Their tongues rasped together in a dance as old as time. His blood thumped in a steady rhythm through his veins. His heart beat for one and only one reason.

Josephine
.

He lost himself in kissing her. The sweet slide of her mouth against his, her tentative tongue and the taste of all that was her. He could kiss her for hours, for days, for years.

The push of her hands on his chest broke the fog of arousal that had surrounded them. He broke the kiss, much to his body’s dismay. Her eyes were wide and cheeks flushed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly; the delicious friction on his heightened the sensation.

“That was not in any of my mother’s lessons.” Her voice was husky and he wanted to hear it when she was beneath him, joined in the most elemental way.

He chuffed a laugh. “Darlin’, there isn’t a book on how to kiss and nobody can teach you with words, especially not your ma.”

“I can see that now.” She licked her lips, and his dick twitched. Those plump lips would be heaven wrapped around his staff. “Not that I am complaining, but I thought you were opposed to consummating our faux marriage.”

Her words threw a bucket of cold water on him. He shivered at the reminder and stepped back. Declan needed to keep her safe, not let his urges take over. He shook his head and stepped away from her; much as he wanted to pull her closer, he didn’t. She’d been right to remind him. He’d been wrong to kiss her.

Hell, he wanted to do it again.

She touched her fingers to her lips. “I see the appeal of kissing. Can we possibly do it again?”

Declan chuffed a laugh. “I don’t think that’s a wise idea, Jo. I want to do much more than kiss ye.”

“Oh.” She blinked.

He had a hard time remembering they weren’t supposed to be intimate, given how perfectly they fit together physically. Their differences in every other way were a perfect thing to focus on. She was smart, book-learned and a virgin, daughter of a loving family. He was gutter trash from a father who would rob you for six bits and a mother who died at the hands of her husband. Jo and Declan were incompatible in all ways but one.

And he couldn’t pursue that one way.

“Let’s find shelter and get a few hours of sleep. I’m sure you’re ready to drop.”

His body screamed at him to snatch her back into his arms, but he shifted farther away, his movements jerky. She watched him with a confused expression, her lips glistening from the kisses. Declan used every ounce of strength to look away. He pretended not to hear her intake of breath.

It was better if she stayed a virgin, untouched, and they could pretend their fake marriage never happened. That was the right path to take, no matter how much he wanted to keep her, make her his own and wake up each morning to her soft brown eyes.

He stumbled over a root as he blindly searched for shelter. What did he know about living outside in the woods? Not too much. Only what he’d learned by force when he was chasing the wagon train. A thimble-full, not enough to feed a squirrel.

“Perhaps the overhanging of trees ahead would be a suitable location.” Jo’s voice right behind him almost scared a year off his life. He’d been so absorbed in forgetting about her, he didn’t hear her.

He looked ahead and saw an ideal spot—large trees blocked the wind while their branches spread out like a fan overhead. “That’ll work for now. I’ll get the horse.” He turned on his heel and forced himself to keep his gaze averted. The last thing he needed was to see her sweet face again.

The horse waited, placidly munching on nearby grass. The gelding had been a smart purchase—a strong horse that could carry Declan’s weight and then some. The dapple gray had proven to be an excellent companion, better than the fool riding him.

He led the horse back through the trees to the clearing. As he secured the reins, he realized he’d forgotten about water. They had a canteen, but it wasn’t enough for two people and a horse. The gelding needed to drink or he’d be no good when they were ready to leave the little haven.

“Damn, we need water.” He glanced around as though the liquid would pop up and wave at him.

“I hear a stream nearby, perhaps a hundred yards north at the edge of the forest.” She was always so calm, damn it.

He snuck a glance and watched as Jo picked up branches and sticks from beneath the trees. How could she know so much yet have done so little? She was a conundrum for certain. Declan cocked his head and listened, noting the sound he hadn’t heard as he was crashing through the trees. Water.

“I’ll go see about it.” It wasn’t an excuse to run. Water was a necessity for all three of them.

Jo kept the hurt inside, not letting it explode out her chest as it wanted to do. She could not let Declan know how much his rejection hurt. The kissing had been the most marvelous moments of her life and she was eager to experience more. Copulation had to be even more amazing, but according to him, it wasn’t going to happen.

It wasn’t simply about the act, however—it was about the idea he didn’t think it was wise to commit that act with her. His body obviously disagreed, the only salve to her wounded pride. The stubborn Irishman was hanging onto a noble cause—what, she didn’t know, but he was remaining true to his honor. Wasn’t he a nefarious kidnapper from New York? He had scruples and stuck to them, a contradiction in who he was.

Regardless if he had chosen the better path, she wanted more. He had awakened something sleeping deep inside her and she wanted to let that woman roam free, experience copulation, even if he wasn’t her husband in truth. If all went as it had been headed, she would never be someone’s legal wife. She would help her parents, dote on her nieces and nephews and die a virgin. It was a gloomy future, one without the passion she found in Declan’s arms.

Grumpy and achy, Jo focused on the task at hand, making a bed for a few hours’ rest. She hadn’t forgotten that people could be chasing them. Declan’s idea to ride all night and rest a few hours was a sensible one, even if she didn’t want to agree with him. The pine needles were soft and the saddle blanket on top combined with a bedroll made the spot look cozy and intimate.

Her eyelids drooped at the notion she could soon rest. She chuckled, wondering how she’d gone from a disgruntled banshee to a sleepy woman. With her companion nowhere in sight, Jo gave in to temptation and laid down on the blanket. Her body nearly sighed in relief. While her bottom and thighs ached, the rest of her drifted off into a deep sleep. Her last thought was that she trusted Declan to keep her safe, even if he didn’t want to keep her.

At first she thought Charlie was playing another one of her practical jokes and was dripping water on her face. Jo groaned and swatted at the air, groggy from little sleep. When the water came harder, she glanced upward. It was rain and not her silly younger sister. A fat drop landed right in her eye.

“Ouch!” She sat up straight, banging her head into Declan’s as he knelt on the makeshift bed. “Damn!”

Declan fell back, clutching his head. The heavens picked that moment to open up. The deluge soaked them in seconds. The sound deafened her, pounding in tune with the pain from smacking into Declan’s head. The large drops pelted them hard enough to raise bruises. She was finally able to see pea-sized hail coming down around them. Wasn’t that just perfect?

“Let’s get under the trees more!” She got to her feet and held her arms like a makeshift parasol, not that it was doing much good. Her skin stung from the harsh hail. When she reached a tree with low-hanging branches, she ducked under it, grateful for the reprieve.

Declan slammed into her with his usual grace, but he didn’t hurt her. Instead, she was suddenly sheltered from the vicious storm, protected by his big body. She could take a breath and take stock of herself. Aside from a terrific headache and various bruises, she was unscathed.

Within the confines of his arms, the heat was incredible. The man was a human furnace, to the point she thought she heard the rain sizzle as it landed on his skin. She savored the protective way he cradled her, along with the warmth. She was forever cold, no matter how many pieces of clothing she wore.

Snuggling with Declan had more than one advantage. She could definitely become used to it.

“Are you all right, little one?” His rough whisper skittered across her ear.

“Um, yes, I am fine.” She shifted, all too aware of the very hard male body surrounding her.

“I think it’s letting up.” He breathed out, a gust that raised goose bumps down her spine.

She shivered, but it wasn’t from the rain or from a chill. No, she shivered from being close to the man she had become enamored of. She turned her head until she was inches from his lips. Jo would never have imagined she was brave enough to take the initiative and kiss a man. She was a new woman now. One who wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted.

Jo tilted her chin up and pressed her lips to his. She tasted surprise on his mouth, but it quickly turned to something else entirely. He waited for her, giving her the freedom to take as much or as little as she wanted. Sweet, delicious heat curled through her body, prompting a throb low and deep in her belly.

Oh yes, kissing him was as wonderful as she remembered. She tickled his closed lips with her tongue, awaiting the imminent arrival of his. She wasn’t disappointed. He opened his mouth, and she dove in, swirling her tongue around in the deep recesses, the thrill of the most intimate of caresses making her bold. He had taught her what to do, and Jo never forgot a lesson.

He made a noise deep in his throat that vibrated through hers. Jo deepened the kiss, fusing her mouth with his. Although she was desperate to do more than simply touch his mouth, their awkward position wouldn’t allow it. Her nipples hardened to painful peaks, pushing against her wet chemise.