Free A Fateful Wind by Suzette Stone Page A

her face as her lips parted and she succumbed to the power of his touch.
    Jack smiled as she opened her eyes, licking the dryness of her lips. “Jenna, Jenna, Jenna,” he murmured. “Whatever have you done to me?”
    The rain fell softer now and the thunder dissipated. He drew his hand from underneath her skirt and slowly buttoned her blouse.
    She lazily ran her fingers through his hair as they lay gazing at one another, their faces barely touching, their breathing now relaxed and satisfied.
    “You’re so beautiful” he said softly.
    “Jack,” she said quietly, wishing she could stay in his arms forever. She ran her gaze over his face. Was this how love felt? She loved him. She knew it. She felt it so strongly from the first moment they met. She loved everything about him – his eyes, his voice, his laugh, his touch. She loved him. With Jack, she felt safe and she wanted him more than anything in her life. She didn’t feel this way with Trystan. Goodness, she never allowed Trystan so much as a touch of her breast, let alone her womanhood. With Jack, it felt so natural. At the thought of Trystan, she felt apprehensive again and sat up.
    “What is it?”
    “Trystan! Oh no, what have I done?” She stood, moving toward the small doorway.
    Jack jumped to his feet, took her hand and pulled her back to the bench.
    “Oh, Jack. This is foolish, simply foolish. I should never have let you kiss me. I…I….I don’t know. I was overcome with everything.”
    He shook his head. “No, Jenna. You’re wrong. Didn’t you feel it? Didn’t you feel it the first time our eyes met? That connection? That feeling we already knew each other?” His eyes implored hers as he spoke.
    “Of course I did, but it’s no use is it? You and I, I mean, from two different worlds, living two very different lives. It’s just a fling for you, that’s all.”
    Jack stood up, indignantly. “This is no fling, Jenna. How I feel for you I can’t describe. Listen…” He grabbed her by the shoulders, his gaze boring into her. “Meet me here tomorrow. Do you think you can? Meet me here tomorrow evening on your way home from Penrose Manor. I will be here. Please, we can talk about this, but I want to, I have to, I simply must see you again. Please?”
    Jenna nodded. She didn’t know why she agreed. What good could possibly come of it? But she wasn’t ready to give up the feeling of his lips upon hers, not just yet anyway. She left the small shed and headed back along the pathway home, her mind reeling with the afternoon affair. She knew in her heart this was just a fling. One more encounter and he would tire of her, and hopefully she of him. Resolutely, she told herself she would only meet him one more time. That would be it. No more daydreaming, no more wishing to be someone she wasn’t. She would get the lust out of her system and set about marrying Trystan just as she planned.

Chapter Eight
    Lord Edwin fidgeted excitedly in the long carriage ride up to Plymouth. Several times he poked his head out of the window and asked the driver how much further left to go. Taking his silver flask from his pocket, he took a large sip and passed it to Jack.
    “You know, I thought our trip to Plymouth would have to be delayed. I am so pleased, so very pleased that the rain decided to oblige me this time!” He rubbed his hands together with glee. As they crossed the Tamar, he licked his lips eagerly. “Nearly there.”
    Jack gazed out into the darkness, willing his cousin to calm down. He was in no mood for a trip to the docklands of Plymouth. He knew well enough what sort of things that would entail. No doubt Edwin’s perversions would be well satisfied by the creatures of the night who roamed the narrow alleyways and public houses of the docks. The thought of having to accompany his cousin on such an excursion left Jack feeling very ill at ease. Imagining the arms of one of those wenches being wrapped around him no longer held any appeal. The only