Free An Heiress for All Seasons by Sophie Jordan Page B

this creature she had become. Had she always been this? So wild and wanton? It only took a man like him to come along and expose her true self?
    He plunged several more times until his own release took him. He shuddered against her, his hands clenching where he gripped her bottom. Their chests rose and fell against each other, their panting breaths mingling.
    She lifted her head to find him waiting, watching her. After a moment of his heavy scrutiny, she patted his shoulder with a shaking hand. “Would you mind putting me down now?
    He obliged, allowing her to slide down the length of him. He didn’t move right away, which was probably a good thing. Her legs had the consistency of jam. Her hands fluttered between them, like birds unsure where to land. After such intimacy, it was silly that she should feel so hesitant about touching him. Even now she practically felt the hammer of his heart vibrating from his chest into hers.
    “A female that does not fill the aftermath of lovemaking with chatter . . . you are a true anomaly. I would not mind knowing your thoughts.”
    His invitation to discourse could not be any more direct, but her thoughts were too troubling to share. She was disappointed for reasons she dared not share.
    At her silence, he sighed and stepped back. Suddenly able to breathe again, she moved away from the wall. She smoothed her hands over her nightgown, attempting to regain her composure.
    “You better go.” She pressed her palms against her sides to quell their shaking. “Before you’re discovered.” Before the world knows precisely how wanton and lacking all restraint she was.
    Tension feathered his jaw as he tucked himself back into his trousers with hard movements. Nothing in his demeanor revealed shame or regret over their tryst. “I’ll go, but the time will come when we’re married and you cannot hide from me. We will be bound to each other. We will share a bed. A life. You will have to share your thoughts . . . you will have to talk to me.”
    She bit back a caustic response. Why should he care what she thought . . . whether or not she hid herself from him? They’d be wed. He’d have her fortune. Why need he concern himself with her?
    “Say something, damn it,” he bit out. “Instead of looking at me with those big wounded eyes.” There was something in his voice right then . . . something almost anguished, which made utterly no sense.
    “What shall I say? You have me.” She waved both arms. “You’ve won my fortune.”
    Angry color swept over his face. He motioned between the two of them with a sharp flick of his fingers, his blue eyes blazing. “Is that all you think this is between us? A mere business merger?”
    “Don’t insult me by insisting it’s more. The only reason I was even invited here was because of my fortune.”
    “And the only reason you came was because of my title,” he retorted.
    “That was my mother’s doing! You know I care nothing for your title!”
    “What then do you care about?” he charged, taking a swift step toward her. “I can’t believe you’ve agreed to marry me if you wish otherwise. Have you not come to care for me even a fraction? Have you no tender feelings for me at all?”
    It was her turn to blush—she felt the heat creeping up her face. “That would be foolish. We just met.” Her pulse hiccupped at the base of her throat. She looked him up and down, striving to be casual and unaffected—to reveal none of her panic at how close to the truth he struck. “It must be your other assets that won me over. That and finding myself stranded overnight with you.”
    He glowered at her, his lip curling over his perfectly straight teeth. “Indeed. Most convenient that bedding me is no chore.”
    She lifted her chin defiantly and sought to look unaffected. “It’s some consolation.” Only some. He needn’t know that she cared for him with a desperation that frightened her. That what she felt for him was more than desire.
    That