Free The Virgin Bride (The Australians) by Miranda Lee

little thing, happy with her own company.
    Jason liked her independence. And her lack of material greed. He’d offered to buy her a dress if she couldn’t afford one, but she’d refused. She’d given him a warm look at the time and said no, she wanted to make her dress. She was a good seamstress, she’d said, and he didn’t doubt it. Her tapestries and collages were incredible, and snapped up by buyers the moment they were displayed on the sweet shop walls.
    Not that she made much money out of them. The materials and framing ate into her profit. But it was a satisfying hobby and one which had brought in somegood pocket money over the years, she’d explained when he’d wanted to discuss her financial situation. Not that he wanted any of her money, he’d quickly added. Whatever she earned was hers to do with as she pleased. Plus anything she inherited from Ivy. He wanted none of it.
    She’d listened carefully, then told him Ivy hadn’t owned much except the house and shop. He’d been dead right about the shop not bringing in much income as well. Less than twenty thousand a year. Still, Emma said she wanted to keep on working in the shop after their marriage, at least till she had a baby to care for, after which she’d find someone to run it. She didn’t want to sell, or even rent out the rest of house. She was going to turn those rooms into a craft club, where the local women could come and work and chat and have a good time.
    Jason thought that was a great idea, and said so. He supposed she wouldn’t have got much for the rent, and what was money, anyway? It didn’t make you happy. He was seeing that more and more these days.
    Of course, it wasn’t good to be poor, either.
    But enough was enough.
    â€˜When will you be back?’ Emma asked him as she watched him pack. She was sitting on the bed which would eventually be their marriage bed, a huge high brass number which had the comfiest of mattresses and didn’t squeak, thankfully.
    He looked at her sitting there, swinging her dainty feet, and felt an overwhelming surge of desire. What would she do, he wondered, if he started making love to her, not gently, but fiercely? If he pushed her backon the bed and mercilessly took her past the point of no return?
    He could do it. He knew he could.
    He’d felt the rising sexual tension in her over the weeks of waiting, weeks when he’d kissed her and held her, cuddled and caressed her till they were both breathing heavily and both wanting more. Last night, however, she’d totally lost it, which had been good for his ego but bad for his own level of frustration. She’d actually begged him not to stop, and it had taken one heck of an effort to deny her, with his hand sliding up under her dress at the time.
    But he had, telling her highly agitated self that he knew she’d hate him afterwards if he went on. They only had to last two more weeks. What was two weeks when compared to a lifetime?
    She’d shaken her head at him, her face flushed, her whole body still trembling. ‘I wish I’d never started this nonsense.’
    â€˜It’s not nonsense, Emma. It’s sweet, and it’s special, as you are special. I can’t say I was thrilled by the idea in the beginning. But now I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
    She’d looked up at him with something close to love in her eyes, and he’d been blown away. He thought of that look now and abandoned all plans of a forced seduction. She would not look at him like that afterwards. He was sure of that as well.
    â€˜I can’t say when I’ll be back,’ he told her truthfully. ‘It’ll depend on Jerry’s condition. But I’ll keep you posted. I have to be back to do morning surgery on Monday. At the very latest I could drive back veryearly Monday morning. At least the traffic wouldn’t be so bad then.’ With the advent of warmer