Page 98 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
Again, his gaze was drawn to Belle. Her appeal was utterly magnetic. A wide smile lit her features, brightening her blue eyes. She’d laughed softly at something Macie had said, her tone light and without artifice. By thunder, she was lovely.
Suddenly, he wanted her alone. He wanted Belle to himself, if only for a few stolen moments.
Concocting a reasonable excuse, he asked her to join him in the kitchen. As Belle met his eyes, he knew she’d seen through the blatantly false pretense, but she flashed a cheeky little grin that threatened to drive him mad with longing. He had to kiss her.
And that was precisely what he did. The moment he had her alone, he enfolded her in his arms and tasted her sweet mouth. God above, she was temptation come to life.
And, soon, she would be his. For the rest of their lives.
“I just had to see you,” he whispered against her lips. “Had to kiss you.”
Her arms curved around his back, and she drew his head down, close to her lips. “Your timing is impeccable. I was thinking about a moment like this,” she said. “Thinking about you.”
“You look so beautiful tonight. How is it possible that you are even lovelier than you were in New York?” He lightly touched his hands to her cheeks and kissed her again. “I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me.”
He’d spoken the words clumsily. Blast it, he was a man who could wield the English language skillfully in an argument or negotiation. But with Belle, he felt suddenly as if he were a schoolboy again, clumsy and uncertain.
“The truth of it is,” he said, drinking in her beauty. “You take my bloody breath away.”
“I might say the same, Mr. Mason,” she replied moments before she raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him, a sweet, delicious caress. “I am so glad I’m here.” A lovely smile played on her lips. “Here with you.”
A sudden noise pulled him from the blissful moment. Heathy was barking. Not the sound he made when he sensed anintruder. But rather, the dog’s excited yips announced the arrival of someone with whom he was quite familiar.
“I suspect Mrs. Johnstone has arrived,” Belle said with the slightest of smiles. “I knew she could not resist a visit with Macie and Finn.”
“When I spoke with her earlier today, she was nearly popping with excitement. She and Macie have grown quite close.”
“So she’s told me,” Belle said. “We should greet her now, shouldn’t we?”
Jon considered the question. “I’d rather slip into the pantry and kiss you senseless.”
“Quite an appealing prospect.” She flashed a cheeky little grin. “But I suppose you must be a proper host.”
He shrugged. “If you insist.”
She glanced about the kitchen. “Shouldn’t we bring out another tray of finger sandwiches or something of the sort? After all, that’s what they’re expecting.”
Jon could not resist pulling her close and kissing her again. “Actually, I’d wager no one here, save for Carrie, believed my reason for calling you in here had a blasted thing to do with food.” He grinned. “Besides, one look at your lips, and the truth will be told.”
“Oh, you are incorrigible,” she said, taking a tray of cookies from the counter. “We should at least pretend, if only for Carrie’s sake.”
As they returned to the sitting room, they greeted Mrs. Johnstone, who’d already perched on the edge of a chair by Macie’s side. Her solemn expression took him aback. When he’d met with her that afternoon, Mrs. Johnstone had been eager to see Macie and Finn after their months’ long sojourn. But now, the woman’s features were drawn, her mouth set in a tight line. Something was wrong. Bloody hell, had Kentsworth or his hired men escaped?
“As much as it pains me to say this, I am not here on a social call.” Mrs. Johnstone met Belle’s eyes with a look of concern. “It is a matter of some urgency.”
“What in blazes is going on?” he said.
“When we retrieved Belle’s personal items from her aunt’s home, Lady Willsbury admitted that she had withheld a message from her—an urgent telegram that arrived several days ago.” Mrs. Johnstone went on. “I have it with me now.”
Belle’s complexion went pale. “What has happened?”
“A member of yer family has taken ill.”
Belle’s face paled. “Mrs. Johnstone, you’ve got me a bit frightened. Please, tell me what is going on.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Johnstone said. “This is a difficult message to convey.” She removed a folded paper from her bag and presented it to Belle.
As Belle’s gaze trailed over the typed words on the creased paper, she began to tremble.Bloody hell.
