Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(49)

They’d been too young at thirteen and fourteen to make their own way in the world. So Angelique had begged Therese to stay. And she had.

Ebenezer had never once threatened them with having to leave. He’d never once complained about having them live with him, even though they were extra mouths to feed and bodies to clothe. Maybe he hadn’t been generous or kind or fatherly, but he’d provided security.

After the past years of sheltering her, she couldn’t accept the possibility that Ebenezer would purposefully kill her. It was too sinful. He’d marry her off first, just like he had with Therese.

But she wouldn’t let that happen.

Angelique nestled her nose into Pierre’s shirt and breathed in his scent—the woodsmoke and the herbs from whatever meal he’d made that morning for Miriam’s breakfast.

“Do you need more to drink?” His breath tickled her neck.

“I’m doing better now, thank you.” They’d already stopped several times for more water, and she was beginning to revive. She still felt weak and light-headed, but at least her senses were returning. She let her fingers brush against the curls of his hair at the back of his neck. The dark strands were thick and cool beneath her fingers.

Her heart began to race from his nearness. Even more than the fact that she was cradled in his arms was the knowledge that he’d cared enough to rescue her.

“Thanks for saving my life.”

“Any time. Don’t you know that’s my secret job? To rescue damsels in distress?”

Her fingers seemed to have a will of their own, and they trailed down his neck to his jaw to the scruffiness that always shadowed his face. She traced the strong line of his chin, relishing the tough bristles against her fingers.

His footsteps faltered.

She knew she should stop. She had no right to touch him with such familiarity. But gratefulness flowed through her along with something she couldn’t quite name, something sweet and aching at the same time.

“I suppose you require payment for your daring rescues?” she said lightly.

He stopped abruptly and tilted his head back so his eyes met hers with an intensity that sent a burst of warmth swirling around her stomach. The shade of the surrounding woods only added to the darkness in his depths.

For a moment Angelique could almost believe they were the only ones on the island, that they were supposed to be together and that this was their home. The thick moss on the rocks and trunks of the trees, the bed of daisies underfoot, and the tall ferns closed in on them like the walls of a cozy cabin.

His gaze dropped to her lips. “I can think of a payment I’d like more than anything.”

The huskiness of his voice stirred the warmth in her middle. She glanced at his strong mouth. The memory of the kiss they’d shared came back to taunt her, the sweetness and softness of his lips. She couldn’t deny that she’d thought of kissing him again.

And written across his face was the desire for another kiss as well. Slowly he bent his head toward hers.

She didn’t want to resist. She could feel her body tensing with the keen awareness of what was to come. But a warning blared from her past, the warning that she couldn’t allow herself to be hurt again.

“I can’t, Pierre,” she whispered, then turned her head and buried her face against his neck, needing to get away from the temptation of his kiss. But the salty dampness of his skin tempted her all the more. She pressed softly and realized that was a mistake as soon as her lips made contact.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Angelique,” he said hoarsely, “if you don’t want me to kiss you, you sure have a strange way of showing it.”

Embarrassment filled her, and she pulled her head away from his neck. For a long moment he stood unmoving, and she hardly dared to breathe for fear she’d lose her self-control all over again.

Finally he dragged in a shaky breath and started forward once more. Within minutes they reached the farm. He didn’t say anything as he carried her into the cabin and lowered her into a chair.

Miriam fussed over her as best she could, her gentle fingers soothing her skin and her kind words adding balm to Angelique’s confusion.

Although she wanted to ignore Pierre as he put together a salad of dandelion greens, wild mustard, and sorrel while the hominy cakes baked, she couldn’t keep from following every move he made. For once, she was glad Miriam couldn’t see her. Even so, Miriam grew silent and stared blindly at her from her spot across the table, as if she were trying to see straight into Angelique’s soul.

“What kind of man believes he’s helping someone by locking her in an attic?” Pierre was saying.

Angelique tore her attention from his back and the curls at his neck where she’d buried her fingers. “I suppose since he had such a hard time controlling Therese, he thinks he’s doing the right thing by making sure I don’t get into trouble.”

“No one can compare you to Therese. She always was selfish.”

Like her mother. The words echoed in Angelique’s mind, but she refused to give them voice. Angelique had always done her best to be the exact opposite of her mother. She guessed that was another reason why Ebenezer’s strict standards hadn’t been as oppressive to her as they’d been to Therese.

But what if she was more like her mother than she realized?

Pierre pulled the Dutch oven out of the glowing embers. “You’re not going back to that inn ever again.”