The Knight (Highland Guard #7.5)(37)
If only his body understood. The most difficult thing about spending so much time with Joanna the past few days was the persistent flush of desire and painful hardness that accompanied it. But he’d vowed not to touch her again until she was his wife, and it was a vow he meant to keep. He would honor her this time, even if it killed him—which it just might.
Who in Hades had thought it was a good idea to go swimming?
He had, but damn it, he hadn’t been thinking about wet chemises and cold water. Nor had he remembered how beautiful she was with her hair slicked back, her long lashes clumped with dampness, and her eyes sparkling with laughter as she darted away from him.
He’d taught her to swim years ago, in this exact spot—a small pool in one of the streams off the Douglas Water river that wound through the village. But over the years, she’d perfected her skills, and the pupil had quickly outpaced the master. Hell, the lass could rival Erik MacSorley for fluidity in the water, and the West Highland chieftain and member of Bruce’s secret Highland Guard was more shark than man in the water.
Fortunately, James’s size gave him a long reach across the shallow pool, and he managed to snag a slim ankle before she dove away. She laughed and kicked, nearly twisting away from him again, before he slid his hand around her waist and pulled her against him.
Bad idea. His groan was muffled by her laughter. But it had been too long since he’d held her like this, and the feel of her soft, feminine body against his felt incredible. She was still too skinny, but her curves hadn’t disappeared as much as he’d thought, and he could feel every one of them plastered against him. “I think I regret teaching you to swim.”
She grinned, lifting her gaze to his, but whatever cheeky response she’d intended to make vanished in the sudden blast of awareness.
She sucked in her breath, and his arm instinctively tightened around her waist, drawing her even closer.
Their eyes met, and the soft haze of arousal in her gaze nearly sliced all of his good intentions to shreds.
“James,” she gasped huskily. Too huskily.
Her lips parted.
He could kiss her and the knowledge raced through his blood with all the subtlety of wildfire. His heart pounded. Desire fisted hard around his c**k and pumped. But he didn’t lower his mouth to hers. He didn’t slide his tongue deep into her mouth and stroke her the way he knew she liked. He just held her to him and savored the moment of connection that he’d feared he might never have again.
It was enough.
At least for him. But when it became clear he wasn’t going to kiss her, her eyes blinked with confusion.
He smiled and let her go. “This is a wooing, Jo, not a seduction. I’m doing things in the right order this time.” Her frown nearly made him laugh. “Careful, or you might make me think you want me to kiss you.”
She lifted her chin and met his gaze with a confidence he’d never seen before. She’d changed, and as much as he mourned the loss of the girl who’d looked at him with stars in her eyes, he had to admit that the bold woman who met his gaze now was even more entrancing.
“What if I want you to kiss me?”
His breath felt caught in his lungs. “Do you?”
She nodded, and he reached for her again. But this time, he cradled her against him, tipped her chin back with his fingers and swept a soft kiss over her lips. It was the barest brush, but it was enough to make him groan. It was enough to taste the faint hint of mint from the paste she used to clean her teeth, and it was enough to feel as if a thick blanket of heat was dragging him down.
Everything about it felt perfect and right, but he forced himself to let her go.
She blinked up at him. “That is all?”
Then he did laugh. “Aye, for now. If you want more, you’ll have to have my ring on your finger.”
This time her frown didn’t please him. “What if I’m not sure I want that?”
Disappointment bit into his chest. For a moment, he thought she was ready to love him again, but she wasn’t. A few days wouldn’t make up for what had happened. He had to be patient. But it wasn’t easy. He managed to smile. “Then I hope to be able to change your mind. Because I want that very much. I want you to be my wife. I know I can never replace the child we lost, but God willing, you will be the mother of my children and be by my side until my dying breath.”
She looked up into his eyes. The tremble of her lip was the first sign and then she broke. Tears coursed down her damp cheeks.
With a curse he swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the water. He sat on a rock and wrapped a warm plaid around them both as she buried her head against his chest, and the emotion tore out of her in hard, shoulder-wracking sobs. He felt his own emotions hot and tight in his throat, as he murmured soothing words against her head.
She cried until she could cry no more, and when the last sobs had ebbed, she looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and tears on her lashes. “Oh, James, it was horrible.”
“Tell me,” he said gently.
And she did. She told him of the joy at discovering she was carrying their child, and how she meant to tell him first that day on the hill, and then the next when she’d caught him just as he was about to leave. She told him how scared she’d been, how she had wished the babe away right before she’d fallen. And then she confessed her guilt, the fear that her prayers had been answered. “I hadn’t even felt the baby move yet,” she said. “I know I was only a few months along, but it felt so real to me.”