Page 15 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
She could feel Jasper Stone’s eyes on her as she sat down, picking up her brandy glass. She took a sip of the liquid, feeling its heat as it slid down her throat. Why was he always staring at her with those arresting blue eyes? But she already knew the answer to that question. Over dinner the heat between them had been building again, to the point that she could barely sit here without fidgeting restlessly.
It has been a long time, she thought suddenly. A very long time, since a man held me in his arms, with passion …
She glanced over at Amy, who was already involved in a light-hearted conversation with David Bragg. Susannah smiled slightly. Now that she thought about it, they were around the same age, in their early twenties. And she could tell by the gleam in David’s brown eyes that he admired her pretty housekeeper.
She turned back to Jasper, who was still staring at her.
“How are you, after what happened today?” he asked quietly, picking up his brandy glass.
“I am well,” she said slowly. “I was not hurt by the fall, if that is what you are asking …”
“Yes and no,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “You seemed flustered when you arrived at the corral this morning?”
She sighed deeply. “I was, just a little. I had just received a most unexpected visit from an old friend, who I hadn’t seen in many years.” She took a deep breath. “It took me off guard, that it is all. I am still not sure if the visit was pleasant … or not.”
“That is one of the reasons that I built myself a new life,” he said slowly, sipping his brandy. “I wanted to start over, and not see any of the faces from my past.” He hesitated. “One face in particular. The face of someone I once loved.”
Susannah gasped. “Oh, Mr Stone! Surely, you have not suffered the same fate as I? You are a widower? How did your wife die?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, I have never married.” He paused, looking as if he was grasping for words. “I feel that I can tell you the truth, though. That you will somehow understand the pain that I have been through.”
Susannah nodded, leaning forward. “Of course, Mr Stone.”
He took a deep breath. “I was engaged to be married,” he said quietly, his eyes on the ground. “We were engaged, for six months, and in love for rather longer than that. Her name was Helena, and I thought that I would never be able to live without her.”
Susannah’s eyes prickled with tears. “What happened to Helena?”
He took another deep breath. “I really wish that I knew,” he said, in a faraway voice. “She seemed to love me as much as I loved her. But the night before our wedding, she ran away, with a man that she had only just met …”
Susannah gasped in horror. “Oh, Mr Stone! That is truly awful!”
He nodded his head. “Indeed, it was terrible. She left me a letter, hidden in my room, where she told me that while she liked me, she didn’t love me … not in that way. That she loved another.” He was white. “It was like a knife had stabbed me in the heart and was slowly twisting. It was a pain like no other that I had ever felt before.”
Susannah nodded. “Affairs of the heart give the deepest wounds.”
His face twisted. “Indeed. I threw myself into my passion, horses, to distract myself from it. As the months wore on, the neighbouring villages began to notice how skilled I had become in working with horses, and I began doing favours for horse masters on neighbouring estates.” He paused. “My parents were harassing me to find another fiancée and marry, but I had lost interest in everything there …”
She nodded. “And that is why you are travelling the countryside, selling your skills. I understand now, Mr Stone.”
He nodded, too. “It was the only thing that distracted me from the pain. So I decided to dedicate my life to it.” He smiled at her. “So here I am, Mrs Drake.”
“Here you are,” she said, picking up her brandy glass, and holding it aloft.
He looked faintly surprised, but picked up his own glass, raising it also. They lent forward. The glasses met, clinking.
“To new beginnings,” she said, gazing at him.
“To new beginnings,” he echoed, staring back at her.
They both drank deeply before placing down their empty brandy glasses. Susannah felt her head spin slightly. The brandy, but also the delicious tension that was brewing between them, thickening second by second as they sat there gazing at each other.
She knew that she was being foolhardy. She should never have invited him to dinner. She knew that she was playing with fire. But she just couldn’t seem to stop herself being swept up in this strong attraction that she felt for the man. And now, she was so moved by his story of personal tragedy, which only added to the connection that she felt to him.
“Thank you for your honesty,” she said at last, breaking the silence. “And your humility. Most men will never admit to heartbreak, and I admire you for doing something productive with yourself after you have suffered in such a way. Most men would sit idly by, relying on their wealth, but you have chosen to tread a different, harder path.”
He nodded in acknowledgement of her words. She could see that he was touched; so much so, that he momentarily couldn’t speak. But the burning look in his eyes, as he gazed at her, told her everything that she needed to know.
He admires me, she thought, in wonder.He is looking at me the way a man looks at a woman, when he desires her, in that special way.
