Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(33)

A whisper deep in her soul told her she should move away while she had the chance, before she did something she would regret later. After all, she’d prided herself on her purity. She hadn’t ever paired off with boys like so many of the girls at the orphanages had.

And now, she couldn’t let the emotion of the moment control her.

Even as her soul warned her, she allowed herself one more look at the span of his chest. Her heart swelled with the longing to inhale one last breath of him before she moved away.

She bent her face toward him. At that moment he shifted and her nose bumped against the tautness of his chest. “Oh” came her nearly soundless gasp.

His hands against her back tightened.

Had she awoken him?

One of his hands slid up into the thick strands of her hair and dug through the curls. Gently he tugged her head back so she was forced to look into his eyes.

The green was dark, and when his gaze fell upon her lips, his pupils widened, making his eyes even darker.

Was he thinking of kissing her?

Sweet innocent anticipation wafted through her. She’d never been kissed by a man—never wanted to be kissed. She’d always kept herself far above any loose behavior.

With a groan, he closed his eyes, almost as if he were trying to block out the sight of her.

In one cold moment, he let go of her and rolled away.

He scrambled up and turned his back to her.

She shuddered from the blast of air that rippled across her skin.

Without looking at her, he grabbed his shirt, which he’d stretched out near the fire. His fingers fumbled to tug the garment over his head, his arms getting tangled in his haste to clothe himself.

“How are you feeling?” he asked without turning around. He jammed his arms into the sleeves.

The chill on her skin soaked into her flesh and worked toward her heart. What had happened? She’d seen desire in his eyes, hadn’t she?

With his back toward her, he snatched his trousers from the ground and hopped on one leg and then the other as he worked them over the long material of his union suit. Hunched under the low roof, he snapped his suspenders over his shoulders and then finally chanced a glance her way.

She hadn’t moved, hadn’t the energy, hadn’t the desire for anything but being next to him.

When his gaze landed upon her thin camisole, he hurriedly turned his eyes to the blanket. “Are you warm yet?” He reached for the blanket and draped it across her.

She couldn’t get her voice to work but instead watched him, wondering why he’d pushed her away so quickly, wishing she didn’t feel the sting of his rejection.

He hovered above her as if sensing her hurt. His fingers lingered on the blanket, and desire flitted across his face again.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” he said hoarsely, ripping himself away from her. He glanced everywhere in the small hut but at her. “You have to believe me. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. I was just trying to save your life. That’s why we were the way we were . . .”

“It’s all right,” she whispered.

He cleared his throat and reached for a piece of wood out of the pile next to the door. “I didn’t mean for things to get so . . . so intimate.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He’d only done what he’d had to. She couldn’t fault him in the least.

He moved toward the fire, once again turning his back toward her. He added the log and used the blade of his ax to stir the coals. When he finally sat back, he’d put obvious distance between them.

“I won’t take advantage of you, Lily.” Again his voice was hoarse with emotion. “It wouldn’t be right.”

She grasped the blankets closer. She shuddered to think what could have happened if any other man had found her. And her heart swelled with gratitude that Connell was such a good man.

“You’re an attractive woman.” His voice was almost a whisper.

His words sent a fresh burst of warmth over her skin.

He stared at the flickering flames, and the muscles in his jaw worked up and down. Finally he spoke. “My mam taught me that I’d show my admiration best if I used restraint and respect. She told me a woman needs to be cherished, not used for the pleasure of the moment.”

Was he telling her he admired her?

The warmth slipped into her blood and sent a different kind of tingle of delight throughout her body.

He’d always acted decently and honorably toward her. And even though part of her longed to be back in his arms, another part of her liked him even more for his strength and determination to show her respect.

She settled back against the hardness of the ground, and the strain eased from her limbs. She tried to adjust herself into a comfortable position, one in which she could still see him, but she noticed for the first time the crudeness of their shelter.

The roof was a sagging mess of rotten boards with holes that appeared to have been hastily patched with tree branches and pine-seedling boughs. The log walls were crumbling away, the gaps stuffed with a fresh mixture of leaves and boughs. Even the shabby door was propped closed with a large branch.

She could only imagine the hardship he’d endured to find her and get her to this place—wherever it was. And from what she could tell, he’d likely spent hours attempting to save her life while also having to make the shelter safe from the storm.