Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(44)

She glanced at him with a shy smile that made him want to drop everything, grab her hand, and run off together.

“I see you’re shirking your duties at the inn again.” He greeted her with a smile.

“And I see you’re being lazy around here as usual.” She nodded at the enormous pile of split wood.

He was relieved to see she wasn’t embarrassed being around him since their kiss and was doing her best to pretend nothing had transpired between them.

But underneath their bantering, he could sense something from her, something more than the usual adoration. Every once in a while he caught her looking at him with an intensity that set his blood on fire. He saw the flush on her cheeks, the intake of her breath, and the desire flitting across her face.

She might have claimed she wanted Jean and that she was waiting to marry him, but a strange need crept into Pierre—the need to prove that she wanted him more than Jean. He could win her affection if he really wanted to. If he worked hard enough to woo her, she wouldn’t be able to resist him.

But what about Jean? Pierre had come back to the island to apologize to his family, including Jean. He wanted to repair the broken relationship and gain his brother’s forgiveness, not make him angrier.

And yet Angelique had the right to choose anyone she wanted. She wasn’t stuck with Jean. She didn’t have to marry him out of obligation. If she found someone she loved more, surely she wouldn’t feel bound to Jean.

“And how did you manage to sneak here this time?” he asked.

“Ebenezer went out, and Betty is already sleeping. She’s heavy with child and tires easily these days.”

“So in your rare moment of freedom you decided to come here and see me since I’m so irresistible?” he teased.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I came to see Miriam.” She tossed him a smile before turning toward Maman. They started to enter the cabin, and he wished he could prevent her from disappearing inside. He wanted to talk with her longer without the time constraints they always faced.

“I’m staying for the rest of the summer.” The words came out before he could stop them.

Both women froze, then slowly turned to face him with startled expressions.

“I might as well,” he said hesitantly, wondering if he should take back the words, if he really could last all summer. “I can help with the crops and do some hunting so that you’re well stocked before winter.”

“God be praised,” Maman said with a beaming smile. “That would be heavenly, Pierre.”

Angelique blinked and then studied his face, her beautiful brown eyes filled with wonder.

“Do you want me to stay for the summer, Angelique?” He needed to know that she wanted him to stay, that she welcomed him in her life.

“Is it what you really want?” she asked.

He searched for a truthful answer. She would expect nothing less. “You know I love my brigade and I’ll miss being with them. But I think the right thing—the thing God wants me to do—is to stay here and help.”

She nodded. “That’s very noble of you. I’m sure the decision wasn’t easy to make.”

“Knowing you’d be here made it a little easier.” He tried to make his words light, but a spark seemed to jump between them.

“I guess now we know who’s the irresistible one.” Her tone was playful too but had a breathy quality that gave away her reaction to his news.

She was glad he was staying for the summer.

A tiny crease formed between Maman’s eyebrows. She lifted her face toward him. Did she sense that his feelings toward Angelique had turned into something more than friendly affection?

He wanted to tell her that she had no reason to worry, that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Angelique while he was on the island, that he valued Angelique too much to trifle with her like he had other women in the past. But how could he make such a promise? Not when one minute he was telling himself that he couldn’t get involved with any woman, but then the next minute thinking about how he could woo Angelique.

“Jean will be grateful for all Pierre’s help.” Maman grasped at Angelique’s hand. “Now he can return to find things just the way he left them.”

There was a gentle warning in Maman’s words, a reminder that Jean would want to return to find Angelique the way he left her—waiting and ready for marriage.

“Jean will be very happy, won’t he, Angel?”

Angelique lowered her head, but not before he caught a flash of guilt. She murmured her agreement and guided Miriam through the door to the dark interior of the cabin.

“Come in and join us, Pierre,” Maman called before disappearing inside.

He was surprised at the strength of his desire to follow Angelique and Maman inside. He’d love to make Angelique a meal—roasted duck from the bird he’d shot that afternoon. He’d baste it with a glaze made from fresh parsley and green onions. Then he’d add some of the carrots and turnips that had just started to take root.

She would swoon over the meal. He could guarantee it. And he’d find delight in watching her eat every bite.

The ax handle in his hand seemed to weigh as much as a load of stones. He wanted to let it drop and give in to his impulsiveness. Maybe he didn’t have enough time to roast her a duck, but he could make something for her. The light of pleasure would dance to life in her eyes, pleasure with his meal and pleasure with him.