Goddess of the Hunt (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #1)(34)

“I want to go cold,” she said. “All these feelings—they’re like flames inside me. I’m tired of getting burnt. I don’t want them anymore. I want to put out the fire and just go cold. I never imagined I’d envy you, but today …” Her voice wavered. “Today, I do.”

He barely heard what she was saying, but he couldn’t turn away. Her green eyes were clouded with hurt, threatening to burst into a storm of tears.Don’t cry , he willed her silently. “Don’t cry,” he said aloud.

She bit her lip and blinked hard. “I don’t cry.”

But even as she spoke, her chin began to quiver. And somewhere deep and low inside him, panic began to build. He’d been here too many times before—watching a woman shed tears for a man he could never replace.Look away , he told himself.Better yet, just leave . He wasn’t a boy any longer; he didn’t have to suffer this scene again. But he couldn’t look away, and he couldn’t leave. He was down and defenseless, and she was so damned beautiful, reclined against that tree. If she cried … He couldn’t let her cry.

“Stop being so dramatic, Lucy.” She winced. Jeremy squared his shoulders. He tried again. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”

It worked. In an instant the sorrow in her eyes gave over to fury. She straightened her spine and took two paces toward him. Jeremy breathed a small sigh of relief. He knew how to deal with an angry Lucy.

“Did I call you cold?” she asked. “You’re worse than cold; you’re cruel. And what’s more, you’re afraid. I’ll be a fool, again and again, but I would never be like you. Not for a thousand Tobys.”

“Afraid? Me? You’re the one who’s hiding from the truth.”

“Hiding from the—” Fury made her grow an inch. “I don’t hide. From anything.”

He snorted. “You don’t hide. You didn’t hide when you let the cows into the oatfield, then? You didn’t hide when you lost Henry’s signet in the coal grate?”

“This is completely different. I was a girl then. I’m not a girl any longer.”

“You’re still hiding, Lucy. Hiding behind silks and jewels and sidesaddles and outrageous behavior. All because you’re afraid. You’re afraid to drop these ridiculous games and simply tell Toby how you feel.”

“I was on my way to do that on the night you arrived,” she said.“Somebody stopped me.”

“You weren’t on your way to tell him the truth. You were on your way to trick him into marrying you.”

Lucy’s mouth fell open, but she said nothing. Jeremy took another step toward her. He knew he ought to turn away, but his feet wouldn’t move in any other direction. He’d stopped the tears. The danger had passed. But it wasn’t enough. There were things she needed to know. If she wanted to call him cold and cruel, then he would acquaint her with the cold, cruel truth.

“I’ll tell you why you haven’t told him,” he said, inching closer to her, backing her up against the trunk of the tree. “Because you know—deep down, Lucy, youknow —he doesn’t feel the same. He doesn’t love you. And if you had an honest conversation with him, you would have to face that fact. So long as you keep up your games and your schemes, you can imagine he cares for you. That’s why you won’t tell him the truth.You’re afraid.”

“You’re wrong,” she seethed. “Wrong in every possible way. I’m not afraid. I’m in love. You wouldn’t know love if it struck you in the face. And I’m mightily tempted to strike you, just to prove the point.”

Jeremy leaned closer, bracing his arm against the tree behind her, caging her between the tree and his body. “Go ahead,” he taunted, offering her his cheek. “Strike me. It won’t work.”

He lowered his voice to a secret. “You know why it won’t work? Because you’re not in love with him, either. You’re afraid of that truth, too. You don’t love Toby.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her short. “Oh, youwant him—like a girl wants a sweet or a shiny new toy. But you said it yourself, Lucy. You’re not a girl any longer.”

Her eyes widened. The daylight was fading, mellowing to an amber glow. The air was heavy with the scent of pears. Her face was scant inches beneath his; her lips, scant inches beneath his. Lucy’s cheeks flushed red beneath the gold. She tilted her face to his, and her eyelids fluttered closed. An invitation he knew well.

He tucked a curl behind her ear—so she could hear him and believe every word. “If you really loved Toby,” he said, “you wouldn’t be standing here under a tree, waiting for another man to kiss you.”

Her eyes flew open, but she didn’t pull away.

“I’m right, Lucy,” he whispered hoarsely. “You know I’m right.”

She placed her gloved hand flat against his chest. Jeremy waited for her to push him away. She would have to push him away, because there was no part of him that wanted to be anywhere else. Every inch of his body was acutely aware of hers—so near, so warm, so ripe. Her hair, tumbling over her shoulders in glossy chestnut waves. Her br**sts, rising and falling against his chest with every breath. Her lips, deep red and slightly parted, inviting his kiss. Her hand splayed over his heart, the touch electric even through layers of linen and leather and wool.