Free Lonesome Bride by Megan Hart Page A

husband, Jed Peters. Virginity is too highly prized by you men."
    But he was right. She had expected her first time to be special. Now it was ruined. But did it have to be?
    "We can start over, Jed."
    "What?” If anything, he looked more horrified than he had when he realized she was untouched.
    "I don't hurt anymore,” said Caite. “We can start from the beginning. We can pretend it didn't happen the way it did. I ... I want to, Jed. I want you."
    There, she had said it. Surprisingly, the hot flush did not rise into her cheeks. She felt calm for having been so brazen.
    With a groan, Jed gathered her into his arms again and pressed his face into the curve of her shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered into her flesh. “You don't know what you're doing to me, Caite."
    "I want to know,” Caite whispered, pressing her lips to his temple. The pulse there beat erratically against her mouth. She brushed her fingers through the dark glory of his hair. “I want to know everything about you, Jed."
    For a short time, he just breathed against her neck, wrapping her in his strong arms and holding her. Caite was not sure what he meant to do, or whether her offer had angered or inflamed him. She remained silent, too, running her fingers again and again through the thickness of his hair, down his muscular shoulders and to his smooth, strong back.
    It felt so good to lie in his arms. His gentle embrace was as nice as his kisses had been. Caite thought that probably she was falling in love with Jed faster than she could have guessed. She could only hope this tenderness he was showing her meant he was feeling the same.
    Abruptly, Jed pulled away from her and rolled from the bed. Caite did not want to risk words that might turn the lovely mood sour, so she merely watched as Jed lithely shucked the pants from around his ankles and strode toward the other end of the cabin. Outlined in the firelight ... He has the physique of a god, or Michaelangelo's David, she thought, watching the red and amber waves of color wash over his taut body. But what on earth was he doing?
    Jed returned to her side with a soft, dampened cloth and a fresh sheet from one of the shelves. Wordlessly, he urged her to sit up and move to the edge of the bed. Then he knelt before her.
    "Jed, what are you doing?” Caite felt supremely uncomfortable in this position.
    "I reckon if we're gonna start over, we should really start fresh,” Jed said. He began to gently sponge away the light tracing of blood that had stained her thighs. Then, he pulled her to her feet so her shift fell once more down around her ankles, and he swiftly exchanged the soiled sheet for the clean one.
    Tears filled Caite's eyes. Jed's caretaking of her was the kindest, most welcome attention she had ever received from anyone. It amazed her that he could be so considerate.
    Softly, Jed pushed her down until she lay beside him again on the lumpy bed. Bringing her to his chest, Jed stared into her eyes for what seemed an eternity before he spoke. When he did, his pleasantly rough voice was even rougher with emotion.
    "You do understand what we're doing is wrong, Caitleen."
    Caite hesitated. The Catholic Church preached about the sanctity of the marriage bed just as much as the Baptist, she figured, but that did not mean she felt what they were doing was a sin. It was right for a woman to give herself to her husband in the eyes of God. She guessed that out here, alone, they were in the eyes of God as much as they would have been if a priest had placed his hands on them and blessed their union.
    "Nothing that feels this right could be wrong,” she managed to say, her throat thick with emotion. “It feels right, Jed. Surely God will not judge us harshly."
    His groaned softly. Closing his eyes, Jed seemed about to draw away from her, but Caite would not let him. We've made our bed, she thought ironically, and now we're going to lie in it. Winding her fingers into his hair, she tugged his head until