Free An Heiress for All Seasons by Sophie Jordan Page A

at the winter landscape. She supposed she should feel guilty. Perhaps even ashamed of herself. She was giving up on Mr. Weston after she had promised him that she would return to marry him. If she were honest with herself, there hadn’t been anything of substance between them. The idea of him had intrigued her more than anything else. She recognized that now.
    And yet she was still giving up on Mr. Weston to marry a fortune hunter.
    Without guilt. Without shame. The moment he had kissed her in that cottage, she had known this would be the outcome. She had accepted that. Resigned herself to the fact that she would marry a man who only wanted her for her fortune. If not for Howard Iron Works, Will would not have asked for her hand. Somehow, even knowing this, she would learn to live with herself.
    Sighing, she dropped her forehead to rest against the cold glass, staring into the snow and feeling suddenly weary.
    “Going to bed early, aren’t you? You’re missing the festivities.”
    She whirled around with a gasp, everything in her coming instantly alert at the sight of him in her bedchamber. “Will! What are you doing in here?”
    She had not even heard him enter the room. He approached slowly, his strides long, measured. Like a predator closing in on its prey. “You don’t seem like you’re enjoying yourself. And you’ve been avoiding me. Again. Did you think I would not notice?”
    She belted her robe and shook her head, inching away from the French doors, deliberately keeping space between her and the bed. She sidled along the wall, palms skimming the surface. “I’m fine. Merely tired. You shouldn’t be here, what if someone saw you enter my room? What if they see you leave?”
    “No one did. No one will. And even if they did, our marriage is imminent.” His eyes were intense again, drilling into her in that searching way. “Correct?” he pressed.
    She blinked. He almost sounded uncertain. “Our mothers are planning the grand event even now, are they not?”
    “But what of you? What are you planning? What do you want?”
    “I-I,” she faltered. She wanted to marry a man who loved her. She wanted to marry him . Unfortunately, the two did not seem inclusive. Shaking her head, she started past him. “Now you ask that? Isn’t it enough that I’m marrying you? What more do you want from me?”
    He seized her by the shoulders and pushed her back against the wall. “I want you to want this, but I’m getting the decided impression that you don’t.”
    “I made it clear in the cottage what I wanted.”
    Something sparked in his gaze. Those flashing blue eyes slid over her. His hand moved to the tiny ribbon at the front of her nightgown. “This then?” he asked, lowering his mouth to her neck. His hot breath fanned against the shell of her ear as his hand dipped inside her nightgown to cup her breast. “You want this. I know it . . . I can tell by the way your eyes flare, your breath hitches.”
    “Y-Yes, no,” she moaned, her head falling back on the wall as his thumb rolled over her nipple.
    “If this is what you want, I can give you this.”
    It wasn’t all she wanted. She wanted so much more. And yet it was a start.
    His hand moved to the front of his trousers, freeing himself before coming back to her and hiking her nightgown up to her hips. He lifted her off her feet, wrapping her thighs around his waist and entering her in one slick thrust.
    She cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders as he withdrew and surged deep inside her again, pushing her higher against the wall. She clung to him as he moved in and out of her, his hands cupping her bottom. It was swift and furious, each stroke pushing her closer and closer to a precipice.
    She bit down on him through his jacket to muffle the little sounds escaping her.
    “God, Vi, you’re made for me.”
    She came apart in his arms, her cry lost in the hard press of his shoulder. As she drifted back down to earth she marveled at herself—at