Page 126

T here were several reasons why Conn should not get attached to Sarah Gable, but walking her to her house beyond the village, he couldn’t think of one of them.

“I really do not know what has gotten into my mother. It must be her grief.”

“Grief causes all sorts of symptoms,” Conn agreed. He angled his head to get a better look at her while they walked. “Is it causing you to behave in ways you would not otherwise behave? You not only lost your brother but the man you were in love with.”

“I do not think it is grief causing me to behave differently,” she said a bit shyly. She dipped her eyes but only for a moment before lifting them to him.

Conn had never been known for his patience or false decorum.

If he wanted an answer to something, he asked questions.

He was by no means a cheater or a playboy back home.

He had a type and wouldn’t settle for less.

She was loyal and strong, soft and compassionate.

She was giving and unselfish. He ran his gaze over Sarah Gable’s features.

She was pretty and getting prettier with every hour that passed.

“What can it be and in what way is it making you behave differently?” he asked hoping to get the reply he desired.

When she blushed, he smiled. “I like when you blush,” he let her know.

“Good, then I do not have to answer.”

He laughed, then, “But I thought you loved the duke’s son?”

She shrugged and gave a little sigh. “I have not cried over him since he left to fight the French. Today I cried and I believe I was able to see things more clearly and let him go. I just needed to get it all out. My feelings were never reciprocated. I had accepted that. Once your sister came I knew there was no place for me. Crying helped me see that.”

She smiled at him and his heart soared. “Then,” he said in a low, husky voice close to her, “are you ready for something new?”

She shrugged one dainty shoulder. “I have never had anything new.”

“I’ll change that,” he promised, ready to promise her anything if she would smile at him the way she was smiling at this moment, as if he was the source of her joy.

“What about when you go back, Conn?” she asked him on a hesitant breath. “I do not want to open my heart to something that cannot last.”

“Come with me,” he invited enthusiastically.

She laughed. “To your future?”

“Yes. Wait, no.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s different there. It’ll be hard for you at first…but I’ll be at your side and…you can bring your mother and Will.”

She laughed again and he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. She stopped laughing and covered her cheek in her palm. He tossed her his most charming smile, leaned over and kissed the other side then backed away when she aimed a playful glare at him.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked, moving toward him.

“Working my way to your pretty lips.”

“They will be more difficult to reach than what I suspect you are used to.”

His grin widened. “You think I go around kissing everyone?”

“I think you could if you wanted to.” She crossed her arms under her chest and brooded.

He laughed silently so as not to mock her. He thought her pouting was adorable, but he was sure she wouldn’t want to hear that.

“I don’t want to,” he told her in a husky tone, close to her, before backing up again. “Just you.”

“What if I do not want to be kissed?”

“I’ll make you really forget him, Sarah.”

“You sound quite sure of yourself.” She laughed but there was a nervous edge to it. “Besides, I already told you that I let him go.”

“Because of me.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his declaration or his slow, sure smile that made her stumble over her words.

“No…no…not because of…you certainly do think highly of yourself,” she scolded. “Can a girl simply not want to be kissed? Does it have to be because of you?”

He felt repentant right away. He was wrong to assume—“I’m sorry. I was rash and foolish to assume…I thought you had interest in me. I’m not as narcissistic as I sound.”

It was a good thing she didn’t like him. He could definitely fall for her, especially when she looked at him the way she was: as if there was a lot she wanted to say but something was stopping her.

He turned away from her upturned face and searching eyes.

Her small hand covering his arm stopped him. When he turned his head to look at her, she stepped closer. “I was not truthful. I am already forgetting him because of you. If you kiss me, I fear I may hand my loyalties over to you.”

“I would treasure them if you did,” he assured her with a warm grin.

With that, she stunned him by lifting her hand to his shoulder and pulling him a little closer. Was he—? Was she—? When she closed her eyes and puckered her lips he leaned in. They were.

He slipped his fingers behind her nape and tilted her face to his.

Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips against hers.

She tasted like honey. He paused for just an instant to taste her.

Her lips were soft and yielding. He could tell she hadn’t kissed before so he moved his tongue softly across her lips to coax them open.

Her arms came up around his neck and she pressed her breasts against his chest. Her mouth opened and a tight groan escaped her. His kiss grew hungrier with every swipe of her curious tongue over his.

He pulled her closer, deepening their kiss.

His mind tried to stop him, going off in his brain like an alarm, warning him that this was happening fast!

He was kissing her as if he didn’t plan on ever being without her again.

He didn’t want to be. But he just met her yesterday!

Could he truly bring her home? If not, then what?

Would he stay in the dark ages with her?

Why the hell was he thinking of this now?

A twig snapped to the left. Conn broke their kiss and looked up, pushing Sarah behind him at the same time.

There was nothing in the direction of the sound but trees. Trees everywhere.

“Where’s your house?” He asked Sarah over his shoulder.

“Right around that bend.”

Conn gave the trees one more look and followed her around the bend.

When the Gable holding came into view, he surveyed the area for any movement.

“Come on,” Sarah beckoned. “It was probably a forest animal. It is cold.”

He smiled and chased after her. The sound of her laughter filled the trees and Connall’s heart.

He had felt her palms, calloused from working her whole life, loving a guy who didn’t love her in return.

Conn would change it all. He didn’t care that things were happening fast. He liked things that went fast.

When they reached the house, they hurried inside.

“I am sure it was no one, my lord,” she sputtered, looking around the empty house. Her nervous expression was easy to read. They were alone.

“Are we back to that then?” He asked her in a soft, deep voice, leaning in slightly closer. “Why are you being formal with me, Sarah? I’m no better than you. Should I call you my lady?”

A slight laugh escaped her and she looked away from his warm gaze. “You do not understand the rules of peerage. Your sister did not understand either and spoke with noteworthy boldness to the marquess. She even trounced a few of his men.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Aria,” he chuckled. His sister could leap high in the air—high enough to send the heel of her foot into a man’s face. “Did you take note of her boldness?”

“A little,” she admitted as quietly as a mouse, blushing when he smiled at her.

“I think you’re bolder than you believe.”

“You do?” she asked, sincerely surprised.

He nodded and opened his eyes wide. “Didn’t you pull me in for a kiss out there? That’s pretty bold. What?” He took a step back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Never repeat that!”

“What? That you pulled me in for a kiss?”

She gasped, tempting him to laugh. Was she for real?

She covered her mouth and looked around nervously, as if expecting someone to be there.

He wanted to kiss her again. He couldn’t remember anything he wanted more.

But he wouldn’t do it when she was so afraid someone might see.

Who was she afraid of? Her mother? Her brother?

He turned away from her to keep temptations at bay and moved to have a look around.

So, this was what a peasant’s house looked like in 1795.

It wasn’t bad. With all its wood furniture and accents along the stone walls, it had a cozy feel.

Nice but cold. He looked at a fireplace set deep into the wall.

Should he start a fire? How would he without any matches or a flint?

He turned back to Sarah to ask her and to make sure she was okay since she was so quiet. He almost knocked her over.

Standing directly behind him, she turned her gaze, neither bold nor timid—but afraid and hopeful up to his. She let out a long, shaky breath. He smiled, unable to help himself. She rose up on the tips of her toes and reached her arms up to close around his neck.

“You’re doing it again,” he teased, calling up every store of strength he possessed to keep from—

She huffed at him and moved to spin away, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back into his arms. She didn’t resist, but smiled when he closed his arms around her waist and pulled her up close.

His heart felt as if it were consumed in flames, heating the blood coursing through his veins, making it hard to breathe and more thrilling than when he hang glided in Rio de Janeiro last summer.

He suspected what it was. Love. He’d felt something similar to it six years ago.

It wasn’t nearly as powerful as what he felt now, but it had been love then.

It was almost certainly love now. He didn’t care how or why.

He let his kiss convince her that she wouldn’t have to wait years for him, he was already losing his heart to her.

When she pulled him along to another room with a door, he went, still ignoring the alarms going off in his head.