Page 21 of Match Made in Heaven (The Cricket Club #5)

He regarded Ella balefully. “All those rules… The gentlemen stopping play to drink tea in between innings. Hitting a small ball with a ridiculous-looking stick…”

“Well, I enjoy it,” Ella said, slightly miffed. How dare he diminish the sport with his petulant comments! And why did he make her want to defend it to the death? “I think it’s good fun.”

His smile morphed into a grimace. “I’m not surprised by that at all.”

She’d had enough.

“Why are you so angry all the time?” Ella lashed out. “What did I do besides save your brother’s life and, now, waste away the hours reading in your family’s library when I’m not attempting to start conversation with your uncles?”

Jack cocked his head. “Which one did you talk to?”

Ella closed her eyes and sighed. “Edward. I… I surprised him while he was painting outside.”

Jack scrunched his nose, rubbing the bottom of his chin with the back of his hand. “Did you see what he was painting?”

Ella stared up at the pleated ceiling, ignoring his sanctimonious expression. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I warned you—”

“I know!”

Seconds passed as Ella attempted to contain the blush scaling her neck and cheeks like an unstoppable weed. Jack’s gaze never wavered from her. He watched her like he was trying to read her thoughts. Ella desperately hoped that he wouldn’t realize that he was the center of all of them.

When his expression began to soften, when something akin to exhaustion crept deeper into the lines branching out from his eyes, Ella tried again.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“What?” It was a bark, but devoid of bite.

“Why are you so upset?”

Again, Jack studied her, but Ella didn’t believe he was trying to reach inside her anymore, mining for information. Instead, she wondered if he was sandbagging the perimeter of his own soul, guarding it from her invasion.

He bobbed his shoulders, breaking away to peer out the window, his voice deep, casual, and hopelessly drained.

“I’m just so fucking tired of secrets,” he started wearily.

“This is why I don’t come home. This is the reason I stay away from the mess of London and all its endless complications.

” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

Ella tucked her hand under her thighs. She had to quell the urge to take his head in her hands and hold him. “What happened? What did you learn?”

“Nothing.”

“Now who’s keeping secrets?”

Jack’s head fell as he let out a mirthless chuckle.

“What is it about my brother?” he asked, surprising her with the non sequitur.

He lifted his head, his expression serious and daunting, as if he’d just asked Ella to explain the effect of the moon on the tides.

“Why do you love him so much?” His eyes were open and clear, and Ella didn’t think that anyone had ever wanted to hear what she had to say more than him at that moment.

A week ago, Ella would have had a rough-and-ready answer. It would have flown from her lips without a second thought. But now it was different. Maybe it was because she knew the duke better now (albeit barely), or maybe she had learned more about herself.

“I…” Her lashes flickered as she searched for the right words, the ones that used to come straight from her heart.

But she couldn’t find them. Instead, she settled for the ready-made answer already planted in her brain.

“It’s easy to love him. I remember the first time I saw him.

He was… light. Pure light and excitement and”—a loopy smile formed on her face—“fun. Lord Oliver is the ideal for the women in the ton : handsome and polished and courageous—”

“Courageous? In his starched cravat and spit-shined dress shoes?”

Ella’s brow furrowed. “ A little courageous, I’m sure.

It helps that when you squint at him, Lord Oliver looks a lot like the princes in the stories.

I suppose we all grow up reading the fairytales.

We all want the dashing prince who’s fearless enough to face the dragon but also refined enough to dance the waltz. ”

Jack’s response was soft and careful, as if Ella had just built a sandcastle and he was desperate not to wreck it. “And Oliver is that ideal for you?”

Was he?

“Not just me,” Ella replied, straightening her shoulders. “Your mother as well. He’s been placed on a pedestal by so many. Yes, he acts in a certain way, a rakish way, but I think most people overlook that because his character is sound.”

“You know my brother’s character?”

A knot formed in Ella’s stomach formed. “I do.” In theory.

Jack leaned forward. “How well?”

“As well as I can.”

His face was drawn. When he chuckled, Ella felt a stab in her chest from the sorrow. “What about my character? Or does it not matter?”

“Of course it matters!” Ella exclaimed. What was all this?

What had gotten into him? “Your mother adores you. Have you heard the servants talk about? They think you hung the moon.” She laughed, but the sound quickly faded away as she gave his question more thought.

“But you can scare people. You’re rougher around the edges.

And you’re quiet, so you leave so much space for people to wonder what you’re thinking, and that can be a frightening thing.

” Ella stared at her lap, wondering why she kept going when she’d answered the question enough.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before, which is probably why I always act so out of sorts when I’m around you.

Not many people would have stayed and helped like you did—”

“My mother ordered it,” he said.

“Your mother asked because she knew you would stay. She knew you had a good heart. Even though she secretly thinks you might be a pirate.”

Jack’s chest bubbled with laughter. “I try to tell her what I do, but she never listens.”

“She listens,” Ella said. “She listens more than you think. I think she’s just scared. The ocean is dangerous… unpredictable. Ships go missing all the time. Even for pirates.”

Jack looked up at her from beneath heavy lids, his earring glinting, his short hair unfashionable. It left nothing to hide behind. Jack was exactly whom he showed himself to be, and was not afraid to let people know it. “Do you think I’m a pirate?”

It was a funny question, meant to alleviate the airless space, but Ella couldn’t find the energy to laugh. “I don’t have to squint when I look at you. I see you. And you’re nothing like the pirates in the books.”

“Uglier?”

“No!” Ella finally clamped her mouth shut.

Saying anything more would be risky. Not only would it confuse the situation, but it would also confuse her, and her mind was muddled enough.

What good what it be to tell him that all the princes and heroes she read about were two-dimensional, stuck forever on the page?

She’d used them to help fill in all the romantic holes Oliver represented to her. Or, at least, she’d tried to.

But Jack… With every day he became more real, more fully formed in her consciousness. He was not a character. He was not black or white. Jack was complicated. Jack was dangerous, but not a danger. Jack was entirely inappropriate for someone like Ella.

And yet she craved him all the same.

Ella could feel the blood drain from her face. Her hands became clammy; the knot in her stomach tightened even more.

“What’s wrong?” Jack reached for her hand, but she jerked away. Again, something deep inside warned her not to touch him. Even someone as innocent as her was aware that there would be no going back from that.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she clipped out. “I don’t even know how we got to this topic.”

Jack’s expression turned wary as Ella floundered in her seat like a freshly caught trout. “I was asking about my brother—”

“Yes, you were,” she said, her words thinning out as she took a massive breath. It did nothing to relieve her anxiousness. “Your brother is a wonderful man. I’m grateful to have met him.”

“And he will make you happy.”

Ella considered him. It wasn’t a question or a statement.

The words hung between them, waiting for someone to claim them for their own purposes.

She grabbed them like they were a gift. “Yes, he will. Very happy. I never expected to have something so wonderful in my life.” Her mouth went dry, her body hollow. “A dream come true.”

“Hm.” Jack angled his head, his lips curved to a winsome curl. “I want you to be happy, Ella.”

The gentleness in his voice made her want to cry. She fiddled with her fingers. “Thank you. I want you to be happy as well.” Finally, she lifted her gaze. He was waiting for her. Those glacial blues found her eyes with a jolt that left her dazed. “You deserve it… even if you don’t think you do.”

“Even pirates deserve a happy ending, is that right?”

“You’re not a pirate.”

“No,” he said quietly. “Just a man.”

Suddenly, Jack shot up, knocking the carriage ceiling with his knuckles. He called out for the driver to stop.

“What are you doing?”

Jack moved toward her. In an instant, he reached out and cupped the back of her neck. Ella gasped as he drew her to him. Only one thought landed in her head: why wasn’t she resisting?

His hold was gentle. His strength was a question, not a demand, and when he continued to pull her to the edge of her seat, Ella did not hesitate to follow.

He stopped just as the tip of her nose was about to graze his own. “Promise me something,” he said. His voice was ragged, breathless. Ella stared at his lips, wondering at his intentions, hoping—yes, hoping—that it was what she thought it was.

“Wh-what?”

Jack’s eyes dropped to her mouth, and something odd scorched along Ella’s inner thighs, pooling at the very bottom of her belly. Reluctantly, he found her gaze once more. “Promise me that when you see me again, you won’t forget everything you told me today.”

Ella tried to shake her head, but his hold was too strong. “Why would I—?”

“And don’t forget the way you’re looking at me right now.”

Ella opened her mouth, but it was too late. Jack swept in, crushing her lips with a kiss, silencing all questions and thoughts. It was a hard kiss, punishing in its intensity. Having never been kissed before, Ella kept her lips closed, unsure of what to do.

Jack’s fingers mellowed, his grip lessened, as the severity of his kiss abated.

His lips melted into hers, teasing and controlling.

Ella felt as if lightning had struck. She felt like she was being devoured, tasted, and, most importantly, savored.

Her chest fluttered with anticipation, and slowly, her body relented, the tension siphoned away bit by bit.

Jack opened his mouth, parting Ella’s lips, spiraling her tongue with his. He came back to her again and again, fusing their mouths in a whirlwind of opportunity and desire. Of pure wanting and eagerness.

A wave of excitement coiled deep within Ella, and she gave herself up to it.

She pressed her body into Jack’s, gasping at the way her breasts ignited from the added friction.

She held his head and felt his earring scratch against her palm.

That little nugget of gold incited her even more, and when his tongue swirled inside her again, she sucked on it.

She captured his moan and gifted him with one of her own.

She’d never felt so alive before. Feverish with no fever. Pink and swollen with no pain.

But then Jack pulled away, leaving Ella suspended in the aisle of the carriage in disbelief.

Catching her breath, she watched as he fled the carriage, her hands still up in the air where his head had been. Ella’s ears rang and pulsed, but she managed to hear Jack order the driver to take her home. He, on the other hand, would be returning to London in the other carriage.

All she could do was collapse back in her seat, trailing her fingers over her bemused and newly awakened lips.

She’d learned so much in those few minutes, but one thing stood out.

Jack couldn’t possibly be a pirate.

Pirates stole. And Ella had just given him everything.