'That is not what I meant-'
'I doubt you know what a good day's work feels like. No, hard labor is beneath Major Jonah Hunter.' Anger felt easier than admitting what was truly bothering her, what was ripping her heart in two.
'I never said I was so fine,' he ground out. 'The damn truth is-'
'You have every girl in town pining after you, batting her eyes, trying to win your favor. And look at you, soaking it up when your father is so gravely ill.' What right did he have complaining about having to marry? How dare he complain when he could have what she would not?
'That is not true and you know so, Tessa.'
'I know nothing. Do you think I will melt at your feet the way Violet and her friends did?'
His eyes sizzled. 'I doubt you would melt for any man, Tessa Bradford.'
His hand clamped on her wrist, and her breath wedged in her throat. His bare skin scorched hers, the heat absorbing into her body.
Why was she behaving this way? Was she so desperate for his touch that she would imagine Jonah Hunter as a man capable of giving love? Anger tore at her.
'I'm too wise to melt for a man. Especially a handsome one.' She fetched a clean washcloth from a pile of linen.
'So, you think me handsome?'
She clenched the cloth in her fist. 'I do not,' she lied. 'But I bet that you think yourself handsome. And admit it, you liked how those young girls flocked around you, simpering for your attention.'
'I don't give a damn for those girls playing dress up and thinking that I am some tasty meal ticket,' he ground out, fury so tight in his jaw he could barely form the words.
'Now, you are lying.'
Fire burned in his eyes. 'Nay, I'm telling the truth. I hardly care what you think of me. You're in this house to tend Father, not render judgment on me. Is that clear?'
'I am not one of your indentured servants, bought and paid for, so don't treat me as if I am.' Her fingers trembled from fatigue, surely not emotion, as she rung moisture from the cloth. 'I may not be pretty and young, but at least I'm not like those ridiculous girls hoping to be your bride.'
'Tell me how you are smarter, Tessa.' His shadow fell across her, claiming her as swiftly as his touch.
Her skin burned. Her blood tingled. Was there no stopping her body's response to him? 'I am not fooled by a man's false heart. Especially a man thinking of his earthly needs when his father is lying so ill.'
'What know you of a man's earthly needs?' His voice boomed through the room, echoing off the papered walls.
Tessa blushed. 'Hand me the towel over there, please. Jonah, I shall have no more-'
'A woman such as you must know a lot about a man such as I,' he interrupted, his big body so near to hers she could feel the power thrumming through his tensed muscles.
'Jonah, keep your voice down. Your father is fast asleep.' Heavens, she should not have risked his temper.
His teeth ground, clacking together. 'I will not. I want to know about you, so strict and pious on the outside, but I know differently. How dare you judge me as if I were mere mud at your feet?'
'I never said you were mud,' she protested and tried to step away. His hand caught her, held her close. Way too close to that solid wall of his chest.
'Tell me what you were doing in the woods last night? What foul business were you about? I think I have a clue. Since you know so much about a man's earthly needs, then mayhap you've been tending to them.'
Heat popped across her skin as he closed the distance between them. He dipped his face toward hers. She stumbled back. He caught her by the elbows, his firm grip twice as possessive and as unyielding as before. Was there no escape? Jonah leaned closer. The breath stalled in her chest. She tried to protest, but his lips claimed hers in a burst of heat and velvet and possession. Heat swept across the surface of her lips where their mouths joined. Hot, bubbling pleasure that somehow twisted low in her stomach.
Sweet heaven. Tessa melted against him. He was all rock-solid muscle and powerful man, but his mouth brushed hers with such surprising tenderness that she could not move.
'You taste sweeter than you look,' he murmured.
She tasted his every word, every breath. Jonah's hand curled around her neck, cradling the back of her head. Heat pulsed in her blood as his lower lip caught hers and sucked it into his mouth. Sweet Mary, she'd never known such scorching heat. Never known such a touch. Was Jonah Hunter such a man that he could bring fire to her cold heart?
His tongue brushed velvet heat along the seam of her lips. This was like a kiss she'd dreamed of on those unhappy nights when she lay unable to sleep in her bed. This kiss was like a dream, and it sizzled like magic wonder along her lips, fired her blood, and made her bones melt. Overcome, Tessa laid her hand against his jaw and felt the curious texture of his unshaven whiskers, wondrous and rough against her palm.
Was this a dream? Tessa did not know as his arms folded her to his chest. She felt the strength of him and the powerful beat of his heart. Thrilling pleasure spun through every inch of her. A pleasure that made her feel alive and whole and so miraculously wanted. Even as desire filled her veins, it did not distort her reasoning. Jonah Hunter didn't want her, she knew that. She ought to step away and move out of his embrace.
And yet as his kiss grew more demanding and his mouth harder and faster over hers, she surrendered, melting like frost before sun. Nothing in her quiet sensible life had ever felt like this. And considering she was the most feared spinster in the village, she knew without a doubt she would never be kissed like this again. So she was secretly glad when he did not move away. Just for this once she wanted to know the way a man touched a woman. Feel a passion she'd heard about in shy whispers from her few married friends.
'Tessa.'
She felt his big body tense. Her entire body cooled when she met his gaze.
'I'm sorry,' he murmured, releasing her, stepping away as if he'd touched something distasteful.
The old pain wrapped itself around her heart. No man was going to love her. She'd waited for love, believed in it for so long. All those years tending poor sick Mother, she dreamed it might be possible. One of the handsome men from town, one she saw at meeting. Sometimes a man would smile at or stop to exchange pleasantries on the common and her silly old heart would start hoping…
Aye, simple foolishness. She'd turned twenty-six this winter. Far too old to dream of romance and passion.
'I suppose now you think-' He sighed, raking his hair with one hand, long dark strands falling through his frustrated fingers.
'You cannot know what I think,' she argued, far too embarrassed to meet his gaze. Want for him still sparked her blood.
'You think I would consider you-'
'I hate you, I truly do.' She cut him off before he could say the hateful words. Nay, he would never consider marrying her. The hurt clutched her heart, such an old pain of being unwanted. 'I would never want such a pompous ass for my husband.'
'Believe me, I am no donkey, Tessa.'
'Nay, you are worse.' There was no such thing as love from a man with danger in his eyes. With her pulse thundering in her ears, she turned her back on him and steeled her heart. 'I will need some fresh water.'
'Tell me about your lover. He can't be Horace Walling. No woman would sneak through the night woods to meet with such a clod pate.'
'You think that I-' She could not say it. Shock lodged in her throat.
'I know it,' he corrected, eyes flashing. 'No virgin kisses the way you do.'
'But I-'
'Tell me,' he demanded, towering over her powerful and bold, handsome enough to take her breath away and every last bit of her sense.
The memory of his kiss burned along her mouth. Dreams felt like that, fiery and heart stopping. Reality was different, disappointing and grim. The two could not mix. Hadn't she learned that by now?
'Tell you what?' Tears blurred her vision. His dark face swam, and she blinked. Two drops spilled down her cheeks, betraying her feelings. She would not let him see her vulnerable.
