Free Windswept by Cynthia Thomason Page B

and neck, a wild testament to rain and humidity. Her dress was smeared with grime and even stained with other people’s blood. She left her hands at her sides, since they were useless in repairing her state of total dishevelment.
    Taking a deep breath, she stated her purpose for being there. “After you were kind enough to offer your help today with the school, I distracted you from the watch. I know it was my fault you missed seeing the wreck first.”
    A rasping sigh that came from Jacob Proctor’s throat was edged with derision. Perhaps he was angrier than she’d thought. He had a right to be. “I noticed you earlier today,” he said. “When I came back from the wreck. I watched you for a time.”
    Strangely, his voice held no emotion at all. It was almost frightening in its blandness. If anything, the void hinted of resignation, defeat. He had obviously paid no mind to her apology when Nora had expected either accusation or exoneration.
    “You…you watched me?” she said.
    “You were doing an admirable job with the passengers. You have a kind heart, Nora.”
    Her breath expelled in one long rush of relief. He wasn’t blaming her. “Thank you. I wanted to help.”
    He came to within a few inches of her, close enough for a sliver of moon to capture his eyes. They were like molten silver, soft and somehow troubled. In their gray depths she read sadness.
    “When I left earlier, I told you to go,” he said. “Do you remember that?”
    She swallowed. “I stayed to help the passengers. And I waited to tell you how sorry I was.”
    “And you have.”
    “And now you want me to go?”
    His fingers clenched at his sides while a vein worked at his temple. “Now it may be too late. Now I want you to stay.”
    She didn’t answer…couldn’t find the words to express the emotions welling inside her. Partly fear, mostly anticipation, for what, she wasn’t certain. But she suspected, and a strange, mysterious need to know burned inside her.
    He raised his arm and settled his hand around her nape. The tingling from his fingers spread down her back and fluttered in her abdomen like a frightened moth.
    “You are beautiful, Nora.”
    She looked away from him, down at her skirt, anywhere but his eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m…”
    “Astoundingly lovely.”
    With his free hand he cupped her chin and raised her face. He was going to kiss her. She felt it everywhere she had nerve endings. It scared and excited her at the same time, the thought of Jacob’s sensuous lips on hers. Even as his mouth descended, but before he touched hers, the image of their lips coming together etched itself on her closed eyelids. But the image was nothing like the real thing.
    His mouth was soft and damp, warm and pliant. And she let him mold her lips to his. It was wonderful, the stuff of dreams. And then it changed. His hand slipped to her back and he pulled her roughly to his chest. Her breasts flattened against him. His lips, tasting of salt water, crushed over hers, demanding, insistent. The embrace became hard and hungry. And yet it thrilled her as nothing else ever had.
    As suddenly as the kiss had changed, it ended. He jerked his head up and thrust her away. His gaze, fastened on her lips, was glittering mercury. “I told you to go home, Nora. You should have.”
    “But, I told you.”
    “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. Now go!”
    He turned away from her, presenting her with squared shoulders that shut her away from his thoughts. Why did he kiss her if he wanted her to go? He gripped the railing and stared straight ahead, resolute in his demand for her to leave. But that kiss…
    After several seconds, he growled into the empty darkness, “Woman, can’t you hear?”
    A strangled cry came from deep in her throat and she whirled away from him. She ran down the stairs, holding the hand rail to keep from stumbling. She barely noticed Willy when she passed him on the first floor. She entered the night and ran toward