A small sound, hardly more than a breath, but he heard it coming from the room farthest away. He strode through the dark, counting the doorways. The last stood ajar and inside he heard a delicate sniff, then silence.
'Tessa?' He gave the door a push.
'Go away.' Anger edged her words.
He knew how easy it was to use anger to cover up deeper emotions, how easy to drive others away. 'Nay, I have something to say and you have no choice but to listen.'
' 'Tis a pity that you haven't changed in nearly twenty-five years, Hunter.' A shadow shifted on the edge of the bed, a mere ribbon of shape. 'You're still unbearably bossy. 'Tisn't as adorable on a thirty-year-old man.'
'I never said I wanted to be adorable.' He stepped into the room, blocking the threshold.
'Good thing. You'd fail miserably.'
A smile stretched the corner of his mouth, despite the turmoil inside him. 'I am sorry for how I treated you. For what I said.'
'You are not.' A tremble she couldn't hide in her voice. 'You're just afraid if you make me too angry I'll refuse to stay and help with your father.'
'That was Thomas' concern. He is a shallow, self-serving man. He was too cowardly to come himself.'
A little choke. Ah, he'd nearly made her chuckle. 'Shallow, self-serving traits run strong in the Hunter family, especially in the eldest son.'
'Will you stay?' He had no time for humoring her, even if he genuinely regretted his words. Thoughtless, they were. Hell, he was so damn tired and scared that being angry with her had been easiest. He wasn't proud of himself, but at least he could admit it. And not make the mistake again.
'I would not walk away from anyone in so much need. Is that what you think of me?'
Not anger. Hurt. So, he was not the only one battling a reputation that did not fit. As he was no hero, she was no shrew. Not Tessa with her gentle hands. How many families had she helped over the years? How many had she nursed back from illness and injury? Or sat at a bedside easing the dying one's pain? And many of the good people of Baybrooke could only treat her with distance and shakes of the head?
'Nay. That is not what I think of you. Hell, you have done more for my own father than I have.'
'True.' He sensed a smile in that whisper-soft voice.
'Then you will accept my apology?' He reached for a match from the bureau. Struck it.
Light brushed over her face as he lit the taper.
'Nay. I would never accept your apology, Hunter. I would never know if it was sincere or not.' She lifted her chin. Tears sheened her cheeks.
Jonah felt gut-punched. He had made her cry. He felt lower than dirt. What a clodpated dolt. 'Tessa, I-'
'No pretenses.' She stood, straightening her rumpled skirts. Candlelight brushed her body, highlighting the curves of her breasts. 'You don't care about me. We both know that. Just walk away. Leave me alone. I will wash my face and have some tea and be in to change your father's bedding.'
She dismissed him with a wave of her work-rough hand. Dismissed him. As if he were a mere private and she a general.
'I am not pretending, Tessa,' he ground out. And then his gaze fell on the soft bow of her mouth.
Heat trembled through him along with the memory of her experienced kiss. Aye, it was enough to drown out the suffocating sadness in his heart.
'Well, neither am I, Hunter. My dislike of you is real.'
But there was no venom in her words. A hint of softness, an invitation. 'Do you dislike all men, or do you save that passion just for me?'
'I have no passion for you.' She dipped her chin, and he could not see her face.
She sounded sad. Tiny tingles of want danced and tempted. He fought the urge to take her in his arms and hold her. Aye, how he remembered the feel of her against him. Heated softness. Willing woman. Even now his eyes appreciated the ample curves of her breasts, soft looking but firm. Heat licked through his blood.
'I meant what I said in there.' She rubbed her hands together, red from manual labor so that they looked chapped even in this thin light. 'You were lucky enough to have a kind man for a father. Yet you wasted the years you were given with him. What I would give-'
She stopped. He could not argue, could not deny her charge. No matter how angry he wanted to get, she was right. He sighed, fisting his hands. 'I cannot change the past, Tessa. Is this what you want me to do?'
'No, I just-' She sniffed.
Hell, she was crying. Big tears that glimmered in the light, even though she bowed her face to hide them. He looked at his hands, so helpless. What did he do? He sensed her tears were genuine, a rare experience for him.
'You have a f-family,' she whispered, her slender shoulders shaking within her too-large garment. 'What I would give-'
Horace Walling. Jonah hadn't remembered her troubles. The world did not stop because his life was changing. He thought of Horace's rotten teeth and dirty hands. Jonah's stomach soured. 'Hasn't your grandfather given you a different choice in a husband?'
'What other choice?' she whispered. 'Grandfather has hated the burden I've been to his family. Where would I go? There are no other relatives left alive to take me.'
She drew him in like a spell wrapped around his heart. Her voice, did it have to feel as if it touched his skin? The sweetness of it shifted over him like spun sugar. His groin tightened. Hell, what was his lusty body thinking? This was Tessa Bradford. And yet he could not stop wanting to lay her across the bed and bury his aching shaft inside her warm, willing body.
'Grandfather has forbidden me to work for hire.' Her eyes shimmered, so wide and inviting. 'I know 'tis hard to believe of me, but I have dreams, too. And they do not include sharing a bed with Horace Walling.'
Jonah took a step closer, breathless. Her eyes dazzled. Her mouth twisted into a vulnerable frown. An inviting frown that lured him.
Blood throbbed in his groin at the thought of Tessa Bradford naked in his bed.
'Will you tell anyone what I just said?' she asked now, avoiding his gaze as she looked to the stairway.
'Nay.'
So, he affected her. Jonah liked the way she ducked her chin, keeping her face from his gaze. She wanted him, he guessed, with the same heated need as he felt for her. Honest and straightforward, the way it should be between a man and a woman. No emotions attached.
He thought of her midnight journey when he'd saved her from the wolves. Only a woman coming from a man's bed would be unescorted in the woods that time of night.
So, she was experienced. Perhaps that was what he needed. Guilt and remorse for the son he'd been threatened to drown him. And watching Father so close to death had been the hardest thing he'd done.
'I should get back to your father's side,' she said with that sweet voice that could lure the devil.
'First, you must attend to me.' He caught her chin in his hand, his groin heavy in anticipation. If he could bury this pain, it would go away. He felt certain of it. Jonah covered his mouth with hers.
He felt her surprise. At first her mouth was set against him, almost unresponsive. Almost. He closed his eyes, lost in the sweet, consuming fire. So greedy it pulsed through his veins like a storm of wind and flame, fast and intoxicating.
He curled a hand around her neck and tipped her head back to deepen the kiss. On a sigh, she melted into his arms. His blood kicked at the feel of her against him. The soft heat of her breasts seared his chest. The curve of her belly nudged his arousal. Want ripped through his veins. Damn, she was pure temptation, and she was beckoning him beyond all control.
'Your father,' she gasped, breaking from his arms.
His breath came hard. Aroused and wanting, he simply stared at her and trembled from deep inside.
'Come quick!' Andy burst into the room.
In a heartbeat, Jonah spun away from Tessa, his need for comfort forgotten. 'What is it?'
'Father is conscious,' Andy choked.
'Thanks be, he is alive.'
'Nay.' Andy swallowed, tears spilling down his face. 'The doctor says that often before a man dies he has a moment of clarity. Mayhap this is his. Father is asking for you, Jonah.'
