Free A Perfect Mistress by Barbara Mack Page B

man.  And then I met you, Jackson,” she whispered.  “And I dared to hope that I might be whole once again.”
    Jackson threw off the horse blanket and stood, never relinquishing her hand.  “Let's go back to the inn,” he said awkwardly.  “No sense sleeping out here when there's a perfectly good bed in there.”  He wanted to say something else, but he didn't know what it could be, so he tucked her into his side, trying to tell her with his touch what he could not say out loud. The warmth of her body made his heart sing as they walked together.
    Sophie felt her heart pounding in her chest; she couldn't wait to get back to her room and finish what they had started.  The flesh between her legs felt slick and swollen, and the tips of her breasts rubbed the silk of her underclothing.  As they neared the inn, she hurried her steps, and Jackson lengthened his stride until they were both nearly running.  Sophie felt a giggle bubble up in her chest, so she let it loose. It felt so good to laugh, and she turned her face up to twinkle at Jackson as they dashed inside the double doors, and he grinned down at her.
    “You're very handsome when you smile,” she panted as they gave up all pretense of decorum and ran up the steps to her room, ignoring the scandalized maid who stared after them, her hands on her ample hips.
    “I liked my gift.”  He swung the door open and pulled her into his arms before it even slammed shut, pressing his mouth hungrily against hers.  “It's quite the best one I've received in years,” he said against her lips, his tongue darting in to duel with hers.  “Though the tin soldiers I got when I was four are a very close second.”
    “I said it was a gift for you, but truly it was for me,” she said slyly, her hands creeping up to tangle in his dark, soft hair.  “Now we have time to play.”  Jackson laughed into her mouth, and Sophie nipped his lip with her sharp teeth, drinking in his sound of pleasure.
    A long, long while later, they lay cuddled together in the big bed without talking. Sophie pressed her ear to Jackson’s chest and listened to the slow, steady beat of his heart.  She turned her face up to look at him, the eye patch looming in her vision.
    “How did you lose your eye?” she asked quietly, trailing her hand down his chest and tracing little patterns there . Jackson rolled onto his side and stared at her, his head propped on his hand.
    “It’s not a pretty tale,” he cautioned.
    “You’ve heard all my stories. Are they all beautiful fables with happy endings ? I live in the real world, and bad things sometimes happen there. You can tell me, Jackson. I’m not squeamish, and I don’t need to be protected. Tell me.”
    “It’s a long story. Are you sure you want all the horrid details? We have had a very long, exciting night… ” She nudged him, frowning, and he grinned at her. “All right, all right.” He rolled to his back and put his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
    “My mother was the daughter of a poor farmer and they barely scraped a living out of the soil. She lived with her two brothers and her father in a two-room shack; her mother died when she was young. I don’t really remember much about it, I was too young when we left.”
    “What about your father?” she asked softly.
    “He owned a neighboring farm. He’d seen my mother around town, and he made excuses to come and see her after that. He brought her pretty things and he was nice to her, she said. She knew he was married, but she just couldn’t help herself. She was lonely, and her brothers and her father barely spoke to her, except to grunt orders at her. Next thing you know, she was pregnant with me, and her brothers and father weren’t happy about that. They went to see my father up at his house, and he gave them money. Maybe it was to keep them quiet, or maybe he genuinely wanted to support me. I don’t really know.”
    Jackson ru bbed his forehead, and he