Free From This Day Forward by Deborah Cox Page A

fingers just in time.
    His hand still on the piano, he stood over her, his gaze traveling down the low décolletage of her gown. Her face and throat flushed with hot color as she struggled to control the wild pounding of her heart and her rapid breathing. From his vantage point, he would be able to see deep inside the daringly cut gown.
    "And was your first husband such a master?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.
    Caroline fought the urge to cover herself against the warmth of his gaze on her exposed flesh. Perhaps she had been too bold this time, but she had to do something if she wanted to stay here. No one was going to convince Jason Sinclair that he didn't know his own mind, but perhaps she could sway his senses by showing him what he would miss when she was gone. And perhaps if she could make him desire her, she could make him love her.
    You have almost every young man you meet wrapped around your little finger, but you always want the one who can resist your charms, her father had told her more than once. And whether that was true or not didn't matter in the least. All she knew was that she wanted this man, God help her, despite his gruff, irascible manner. And she would not get on that mail boat and return to New Orleans in defeat, not without a fight.
    Tension crackled in the scant space between them. Caroline's breath became shallow and her nipples grew taut in anticipation of his touch. She wanted him to touch her gently, to kiss her again.
    He had asked her a question, a bitter question, but she couldn't answer. Her throat had tightened and her mind had stopped functioning altogether.
    "Run out of clever retorts?" he whispered.
    "I..."
    Her words drifted away unsaid as he ran a finger along the line of her collar bone, the gentle fire in his fingertips melting what was left of her composure. A dizzying desire possessed her body as he lowered his head, the soft warmth of his breath touching her parted lips. Gasping for air, Caroline felt her body melting into a pool of mindless longing. It didn't matter that he'd been cruel to her earlier. Nothing mattered but Jason and the terrifying demands of her own body.
    "Dinner."
    Caroline nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Ines's voice from the doorway. Jason jerked away quickly, and it took them both a few moments to compose themselves.
    Jason smiled sardonically, as if he had been unaffected, as if she had been the only one close to surrender, and she hated him for that smile. Grudgingly, she placed her hand on his proffered arm, her body still resounding with a bittersweet yearning as they walked into the dining room. He held her chair out for her, then took his own place across from her.
    Caroline noticed that Ines served the food quickly and made her exit as soon as possible, the traitor, leaving her alone with this man who defied understanding.
    Silence stretched between them as they both concentrated on their food. Jason lifted his water goblet and took a long drink. As he returned the glass to the table, Caroline felt the heat of his measuring gaze.
    "So," he said, "tell me about this husband of yours."
    Caroline stiffened. "Why? I thought you didn't want to know anything about me."
    Jason shrugged. "Just trying to make conversation. But if it's a sore subject...."
    "He died in a river boat accident three years ago. We were married less than two years. Afterward, I supported myself by teaching piano and—"
    "But you haven't told me anything about the man," he interrupted, "what he was like."
    She shot him a murderous scowl. "There's not much to tell."
    "You mean he wasn't much of a man?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a white linen napkin and placing it on the table beside his plate.
    "I didn't say that." He was leading up to something, and she wasn't sure she wanted to follow.
    "I'm sure there are plenty of interesting things about your former husband." He sat back in his chair, studying the wine in his glass as he swirled it around.
    "What would