Page 16 of Stolen By the Rogue
She gazed into his eyes. The gold flecks in them promised so much.
I really want to believe that you like me. That someone in this world could find Jane Scott worthy of their affection.
“George, it would be lovely to openly trust you. But at some point, you must have realized that I have no one to protect me if you break your word,” she said.
He paused for a moment, and his gaze dropped to the ground. A flicker of doubt appeared on his face, but when he raised his head and looked at her, it was gone.
Perhaps I imagined it.
“I won’t betray you, Jane. You can trust me.”
She gave him a brief nod, and he drew back.
They made their way toward the edge of the river, away from the other late-evening strollers. This time of the year, the nights were still warm, and the gentle breeze that blew up from the River Thames barely disturbed the air.
Fond memories stirred, returning to Jane like old friends. She was sure that if she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she would be transported back to Byblos Castle and the heady, salt scent, of the sea as it swept up the hill each evening at sunset. Long, hot days, eased by the soothing cool night winds.
“Have you ever travelled abroad?” she asked.
“Yes, I go to France and Spain quite often. A friend of mine has a boat, and he brings various items into England from the continent. I also regularly go down to the coast to help him when he has a large shipment coming in.”
Jane slipped her hand from George’s and turned to face him. She barely knew this man, yet she wanted nothing more than to feel his strong arms wrapped tightly around her.
He reached out and drew her to him. It was almost as if he could read her mind. Their foreheads touched, and for just the briefest of moments, they stood in silence. The only sound breaking through into their private bubble was the gentle slap of waves dancing up and down in the nearby river.
“Jane, may I kiss you?” he whispered.
He could have taken what he wanted but knowing that he respected her enough to ask her permission had the last of Jane’s crumbling defenses falling all around her. She couldn’t fight the battle against her growing need any longer.
“Please,” she murmured.
She lifted her face as George’s lips brushed over hers. Once. Twice. And the third time, he claimed her mouth in a scorching kiss.
Yes. Oh, God, yes.
Her hands clutched the lapels of his coat. She was determined not to let go. When his left arm slipped around her waist and settled on her ass, she didn’t protest. A sob of urgent need escaped her lips as he pulled her hard against him.
It’s been an eternity since a man held me. Oh, George.
The firmness of his erection pressed into her stomach. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he was going to back her up to a nearby tree and raise her skirts. She had a feeling she wouldn’t stop him if he did. It had been so long.
When he finally did break away, they stood panting, staring at one another.
“You make me want to lose control. I’ve never met a woman who has had that sort of effect on me before. You might trust me, Jane, but I am not so certain that I can trust myself when it comes to you.”
His words should have rung in her mind as a loud bell of warning, but Jane didn’t care. She wanted to be a part of someone’s life, even if only for a time. She tugged on the front of George’s coat, pulling him in for another kiss.
I am tired of living in fear. Of wondering when the next heartache is coming.
Whatever this relationship was, and wherever it eventually led, Jane was going to take every minute she could get with George Hawkins.
Chapter Ten
Jane sipped at her tea and stared out into the night. Hope sat in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, her luck was beginning to change. The first tentative steps toward a possible romance were always fraught with danger, but if she could win George’s heart, it would be worth the risk.
After setting her silver-etched tea glass onto the ornate gold tray, she tugged at the ties of her dressing gown. She shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor.
Her sensible, respectable, cotton English nightgown received a frown of disapproval. As her previous employment had required Jane to be able to attend immediately to her young charges at all hours, the dowdy night attire had been a necessary evil.
