Free Loving Byrne by Donna Dalton Page A

Grovers. We only have a short time together. Let’s not waste it on idle gossip.”
    As he tugged her through the open doorway, the heady smell of beeswax and fresh laundered cotton enveloped her. Crisply folded linens and towels lined the floor-to-ceiling wall shelves. A scarred but clean work table occupied the middle of the room. The maids’ closet. Not exactly an ideal trysting spot, but it would have to do.
    “Are you hungry?” She certainly was. But not for food. However, what she craved would—for the time being—have to stay shelved.
    She placed the basket on the table and pulled back the cloth covering. “I brought some of my sister’s fresh baked bread. And cheese from Howard’s store. The herbed goat cheese you adore more than anything else.”
    Her brother-in-law stocked his mercantile with only the best wares. No cheap goods for Howard Taylor. She’d tallied the receipts often enough to know while helping with the bookkeeping.
    Stephen moved behind her and peeled off her cloak. “There’s nothing I adore more than you, my darling.”
    She smiled. He always said the sweetest things. Theirs was the true romantic story. He’d swept her off her feet from the moment they met. Literally. She’d been high on a ladder, wiping dust from a shelf in the mercantile when her foot slipped. She’d plunged into the arms of a dashing Army officer who’d walked through the door just in time to catch her. From then on, not a day went by that Lieutenant Byrne didn’t come by the store. His brief visits turned into long dinners with her and Annabelle and Howard, and two months later, he’d asked for her hand in marriage. She couldn’t ever remember being happier.
    She fished the bread and cheese from the basket and set them on the table. “I packed your favorite wine, too. The same brand we had at our engagement party. And some sweet berries from the market.”
    Still standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “Not as sweet as you, I’d wager.”
    She tipped back, relishing the whisper of firm lips gliding over her sensitive flesh. “You should eat something, love. It’s going to be a long…ahh…night standing guard.”
    “You’re all the sustenance I need.”
    Her limbs went limp as porridge. Over the past few months, they’d enjoyed many a stolen kiss but never had they taken their desires to such a fevered pitch. Their wedding night was sure to be wondrous. A jolt of sanity shot through her. Wedding .
    She straightened and leaned away from him. “I didn’t come here for kisses and such.”
    “No?”
    “No. I came to discuss our wedding. It will be here soon. We need to make some decisions.”
    He trailed a finger along her shoulder blade. “What is there to discuss?”
    A shiver chased after his touch. She moistened lips gone dry as a summer pond. “Flowers, for one thing. Blue forget-me-nots or pink roses? And the cake. Buttercream or chocolate? Oh, and we have to set a date with Pastor Dean for our final counseling session.”
    He branded her nape with a poker-hot kiss. “Whatever you decide is fine with me.”
    Warmth spread down her backbone and pooled in a smoldering hollow. She reined in a groan of pleasure. Wanton reactions would only spur his assault. “This is important, Stephen.”
    Lips and tongue tickled the flesh behind her ear. “Hmm. So, it is.”
    He clearly wasn’t referring to their wedding plans. “It’s your wedding, too. I want you to be happy with our choices.”
    He spun her around and pulled her against him. “I am happy. Very happy.”
    His thigh molded her woman’s mound and ignited a blaze that rivaled Satan’s hearth. All thought of restraint went up in smoke. She arched her back and pressed into him. “God, Stephen...”
    “You like that?”
    “Hmmm.” She reached up and played fingers through his downy locks, the only softness on his supple body. “I liked it far too much I’m afraid.”
    “Why afraid?”
    “We