her away again."
"It's up to you, Anne. Not me. Whether she stays or not is completely your decision."
She yearned to tell him what a lying swine he was. She had no actual control over Sarah's fate. Anne could do everything he asked and he might still renege on his promise not to evict Sarah, but any dispute was lost in the fog of their burgeoning intimacy.
Their bitter feud of the previous day had ended with him as the winner, but it wasn't a fair fight. Anne hadn't any weapons with which to battle him, and it was draining, going up against ail that masculine certitude. He was bigger and stronger, and he wanted events to happen much more than she did.
His plans for her seemed inevitable. Wasn't it better to simply relent?
He came over her, his torso pressing her down. His naughty fingers caressed her hip. His lips were mere inches from her own.
Down below he was wearing his trousers, but the upper half of his body was bare. Instantly, she was awash in too much male flesh, but she wasn't alarmed. When he tucked away the bluster, he could be very charming.
"You smell good," he sweetly told her.
"Do I?"
"Yes, and you look so pretty, with your hair down and the sun shining on your skin."
He dipped under her chin and nuzzled her nape. He hadn't shaved, so his face was rough and scratchy, and it tickled, causing goose bumps to cascade down her arms.
He positioned himself between her thighs, and he flexed his loins, the odd gesture making him groan with what could have been pain or a strange sort of ecstasy.
"I'm always filled with lust first thing in the morning," he said.
"So it's a common condition that has nothing to do with me personally?"
"Oh, it has everything to do with you, my dear scamp."
She smiled, a glutton for his compliments.
"After we're wed," he continued, "there'll be no separate beds for us. We'll sleep together every night—so that I can wake up with you just like this."
He kissed her, one of those long, lush embraces he was quickly teaching her to relish. With his anatomy crushed to hers in several delectable spots, she should have pushed him away or at least pretended maidenly outrage, but she didn't want to object. The moment was incredibly precious, and even though he was a bully and she was furious with him, she was bowled over.
He was fussing with the laces on her corset, and as he yanked it away without her protesting, she wondered where her moral fortitude had gone. Whenever she was with him, he swiftly goaded her to iniquity, and he was so clever at tempting her that she forgot to complain or resist.
The thin fabric of her chemise was scarcely a barrier to any advance, and his hand easily drifted to her breast. He fondled the soft mound, gently squeezing the rigid nipple.
She couldn't understand how she'd failed to note that the rosy tip was so sensitive. It seemed to be directly connected to her womb, and with each pinch and tug her insides wrenched in an enchanting way.
"You've never had a lover, have you, Anne?" he asked.
"Of course not. When would I have?"
"So no man has ever touched you here but me?"
"No."
"Not even your beau, when you were seventeen?" She scowled. "How do you know about him?"
"I know all about you. I made it a point to know." "But... why?"
"I had to find out if I was getting a shrew."
"And since I'm not a shrew, you must have been relieved." When he didn't jump in to agree, she added, "I'm not a shrew. Right?"
"Right." His reply was hesitant, and he sounded as if he hadn't quite decided.
"Could you be a tad more certain?"
He laughed, redeeming himself. "You're definitely not a shrew."
"Would it have made any difference to you if I was?"
"I don't think so."
The comment was ominous, as if there'd been negotiations over her, and she wasn't too keen on his having private information to which she wasn't privy. She'd meant to inquire as to how he'd learned of her, who had investigated, and why, but he grinned again, and she was swept up, unable to pull
"It's up to you, Anne. Not me. Whether she stays or not is completely your decision."
She yearned to tell him what a lying swine he was. She had no actual control over Sarah's fate. Anne could do everything he asked and he might still renege on his promise not to evict Sarah, but any dispute was lost in the fog of their burgeoning intimacy.
Their bitter feud of the previous day had ended with him as the winner, but it wasn't a fair fight. Anne hadn't any weapons with which to battle him, and it was draining, going up against ail that masculine certitude. He was bigger and stronger, and he wanted events to happen much more than she did.
His plans for her seemed inevitable. Wasn't it better to simply relent?
He came over her, his torso pressing her down. His naughty fingers caressed her hip. His lips were mere inches from her own.
Down below he was wearing his trousers, but the upper half of his body was bare. Instantly, she was awash in too much male flesh, but she wasn't alarmed. When he tucked away the bluster, he could be very charming.
"You smell good," he sweetly told her.
"Do I?"
"Yes, and you look so pretty, with your hair down and the sun shining on your skin."
He dipped under her chin and nuzzled her nape. He hadn't shaved, so his face was rough and scratchy, and it tickled, causing goose bumps to cascade down her arms.
He positioned himself between her thighs, and he flexed his loins, the odd gesture making him groan with what could have been pain or a strange sort of ecstasy.
"I'm always filled with lust first thing in the morning," he said.
"So it's a common condition that has nothing to do with me personally?"
"Oh, it has everything to do with you, my dear scamp."
She smiled, a glutton for his compliments.
"After we're wed," he continued, "there'll be no separate beds for us. We'll sleep together every night—so that I can wake up with you just like this."
He kissed her, one of those long, lush embraces he was quickly teaching her to relish. With his anatomy crushed to hers in several delectable spots, she should have pushed him away or at least pretended maidenly outrage, but she didn't want to object. The moment was incredibly precious, and even though he was a bully and she was furious with him, she was bowled over.
He was fussing with the laces on her corset, and as he yanked it away without her protesting, she wondered where her moral fortitude had gone. Whenever she was with him, he swiftly goaded her to iniquity, and he was so clever at tempting her that she forgot to complain or resist.
The thin fabric of her chemise was scarcely a barrier to any advance, and his hand easily drifted to her breast. He fondled the soft mound, gently squeezing the rigid nipple.
She couldn't understand how she'd failed to note that the rosy tip was so sensitive. It seemed to be directly connected to her womb, and with each pinch and tug her insides wrenched in an enchanting way.
"You've never had a lover, have you, Anne?" he asked.
"Of course not. When would I have?"
"So no man has ever touched you here but me?"
"No."
"Not even your beau, when you were seventeen?" She scowled. "How do you know about him?"
"I know all about you. I made it a point to know." "But... why?"
"I had to find out if I was getting a shrew."
"And since I'm not a shrew, you must have been relieved." When he didn't jump in to agree, she added, "I'm not a shrew. Right?"
"Right." His reply was hesitant, and he sounded as if he hadn't quite decided.
"Could you be a tad more certain?"
He laughed, redeeming himself. "You're definitely not a shrew."
"Would it have made any difference to you if I was?"
"I don't think so."
The comment was ominous, as if there'd been negotiations over her, and she wasn't too keen on his having private information to which she wasn't privy. She'd meant to inquire as to how he'd learned of her, who had investigated, and why, but he grinned again, and she was swept up, unable to pull
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