Chapter 12
Jackson might have feigned confidence in his seduction, but with Kate he’d learned it would be ill-advised to bet on her response. Which simply made her plea all the more victorious.
Not allowing her the chance to debate the consequences of her answer, he surrendered to a hunger that had nothing to do with food, plundering her lips in a kiss so deep he felt it in every inch of his body.
As much as he hadn’t set out to seduce Kate with his ultimatum, he couldn’t ignore the temptation to lose himself in her. He had no desire to procure a wife but oh, he desired Kate.
Given how her lips came alive under his, she returned his longing.
Without relinquishing her mouth, he curved his hand around her hip and pulled her onto his lap. She broke from their kiss as she gasped in surprise.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned starkly. Splaying his hand on the back of her head, he pulled her in for another deep taste of her mouth.
Perhaps his future couldn’t exist within the borders of England but at the very moment, he was hard-pressed to recall why. Not with Kate’s generous bottom wiggling so enticingly on his thighs.
Needing more of her, he trailed his mouth down her neck. Quickly working the hooks of her gown, he bared her skin. Now only her chemise kept him from feasting on the straining tips of her breasts.
Lost in her sweetness, he hazily registered her head falling back as she moaned his name over and over. Oh, hell. The sound of her surrender tightened his already throbbing cock and beckoned him forward to close his lips over one ridged peak.
Through the thin fabric, he pulled her into his mouth. In response, her rounded buttocks quivered against his erection.
“Yes, Jackson. Please.”
He released her breast, murmuring against her damp flesh, “Tell me, Kate. What do you need?”
His heated blood chilled at her sudden silence. The pause sat thickly between them and he was about to adjust her bodice when her hand, bared from his earlier ministrations, curved along his jaw and drew his head up.
Her brown eyes were misty but there was no denying the certainty shining through. “I need you.”
Those three words set off an explosion of longing through him. Ignoring all delicacy, he crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her whimper of approval. He would willingly drown in the taste of her.
Mindful of their haphazardly private surroundings, Jackson lowered Kate to the blanket, pushing the remains of their lunch to the side.
He relinquished his hold on her lips and lifted his head, only to become lost in her eyes. “This isn’t why I asked you here.”
She smiled. “I don’t recall you asking anything.”
The reminder of his hold over her—retaining possession of her ring—ought to cause him shame. But without it, she wouldn’t be here now, looking at him with pure pleasure shining in those pretty brown orbs.
Besides, he wasn’t a weak-willed bloke who caved to regrets. He owned his actions. And right now, he possessed a small part of Kate.
“Still, my aim isn’t to seduce you.”
Her brow arched. “Who says you could seduce me?”
His answer was a mocking glance to her lowered bodice as he palmed the gentle rise of her hip. He wanted to dive beneath her skirts and stroke her core, knowing it would be washed in desire for him. All that stopped him was the truth he had revealed about not intending to seduce her.
Something compelled him toward Kate, far beyond a plot to breach her maidenhead. She deserved more. She deserved a husband. Someone to give her a future.
Thankfully, he wasn’t enough of a gentleman to deny himself what he could take.
Focused on her face, his palm moved over her stomach, to her breast. Pinching the soft cotton of her chemise between his fingers, he gave the fabric a tug, exposing the perfect globe.
Her breath hitched as a soft breeze moved over the ridged peak.
“Still think I couldn’t seduce you if I set my mind to it?”
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. If anything could cool her ardor, being reminded of his sway over her would be it. Jackson tensed, waiting for her withdrawal.
His pulse raced when her hand boldly grasped the back of his head. Meeting his eyes, she firmly admonished, “Do be quiet,” before adding pressure to her hold until he lowered his mouth to her nipple.
The taste of her was so heady. How easily forgotten, why he couldn’t lift her skirts and sink into her. Though she moaned, “Yes, Jackson,” between breaths, the fact remained in three days’ time, he would no longer be on English soil. He wouldn’t jeopardize his escape. Not even for what was surely guaranteed to be heaven between her legs.
Jackson forced himself to slow his caresses. “We have a picnic to finish,” he groaned against her breast.
Her body stilled, no longer writhing to get closer. He lifted his head. Arousal clouded her eyes, yet they lacked their prior faraway expression. Their encounter was over.
Their time together wasn’t, however, for she owed him another hour. He planned to enforce every minute of the agreement they had struck.
Their acquaintance might be fated to end but he was determined to discover what about her spurred his emotions.
Reluctantly, he straightened and released her. “Shall we resume our meal?”
Her cheeks flushed, she righted her bodice, leaving only the memory of her naked skin. Her blush deepened as she turned so he could fasten her dress. With entirely too much of her alluring, creamy skin still on display, Jackson had to battle to kill his arousal. Otherwise he would toss aside his noble intentions and have her on her back with him buried deep inside her.
Fortunately for his sanity, common sense came out the victor in the battle against himself.
Her clothing properly restored, her attention turned to the fruit and cheese on her plate, her gaze hooded. A detail he didn’t care for.
“Suddenly shy?” he taunted softly, in an effort to flare the fire she tried to smother.
As he suspected, Kate couldn’t resist his tease. Her beautiful eyes connected with his before she replied with the same wit she’d shown the night they’d met. “Your presence is hardly something to render me timid.”
It took great effort to remain composed. “Why, then, the downtrodden look?”
Her gaze never faltered. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not this person, nor do I engage in clandestine meetings where I behave less than properly. Not to mention, I’m practically engaged.”
His scowl emerged at the mention of her looming marriage. “Then why are you here?”
“You gave me no choice.”
“Liar.”
Her gasp clearly displayed her flare of outrage. “You certainly didn’t. You refuse to return my ring.”
“I doubt your minor trinket is enough to entice you to throw away years of etiquette bestowed upon you.”
“Are you saying you gave me a choice in accepting your ultimatum?”
“You always have a choice. You have the choice to marry your duke. You have a choice to be happy. You have a choice to obey your father.” He leaned closer, unable to maintain his distance. Pleasure ripped through him when she drifted forward, as if she couldn’t remain apart either. His voice remained soft but firm. “And you always have a choice when it comes to me.”
As silence took over, neither breached the final inches separating them. Despite the ache his muscles suffered as he restrained the urge to reach for her, he refused to budge. Damned if he’d pressure her into anything. She’d made her choices up to this point. From the night in the grove, to the moment they shared right now.
Her ring might have given her a reason to meet him and an excuse to harbor, but it had always been her decision. He wouldn’t change that now.
When her eyes shifted away, the sinking feeling in his chest—and what it signaled—worried him. Kate was nothing more than a lark, a way to pass his time with a beautiful woman before he achieved his dream and escaped England. By no means had she touched his heart.
Had she?
As he sensed her retreat further, the ache in Jackson’s chest amplified. Did his emotions remain disengaged? He feared they had not.
Kate represented everything he didn’t want in his future.
Withdrawing completely seemed the only option.
He started to gather the remains of their meal. “We should return.”
From the corner of his vision he noted how quickly she spun to stare at him. He fought the urge to face her, for if he did he’d surely weaken. As lovely as he found the lady, he had no wish to allow her the opportunity to dig herself in further. She had already impacted his life dramatically.
As nonsensical as it seemed, he feared a certain cursed tree was to blame.
She remained silent but he felt her regard nonetheless. He couldn’t concentrate on packing up their lunch, his fingers itching to caress her cheek before tangling in her hair. From there he’d pull her to him and learn if the berries she’d consumed remained sweet on her lips.
Disaster, you fool. Don’t do it.
Kate was just one beautiful woman in a world full of beautiful women. In a few short days, he’d be on his way to explore each one. He used that rationale to steady his purpose and strengthen his resolve.
His task complete, he stood and offered her a hand, his eyes trained on a spot just beyond her shoulder. Anything to avoid soaking in her wild beauty. A simple glimpse was all it would take for him to cave. He had a plan. A future. One that didn’t include an almost-engaged society miss. Even if he was insane and decided to throw his plans to the wind, she wasn’t his to have.
When he realized she hadn’t taken his hand, Jackson had no option but to look at her. Thinking he had prepared for any onslaught of emotions, nothing could have readied him for the sadness he spotted in her eyes.
“Oh, Kate, don’t,” he pleaded. “We both know this is wrong. I shouldn’t have encouraged this. You shouldn’t have allowed it. You were right all along.”
His words must have lit a spark in her because one minute she was sitting before him, forlorn, and the next, on her feet with no assistance from him, her glare burning bright.
“You are just like the rest of them,” she spat as she attempted to push past him.
He caught her arm, preventing her escape. “Explain.”
“I’d rather not. I want to go home now.”
Stubborn nymph. “Kate, talk to me. The rest of who?”
She stared into the distance but when she started to gnaw at her lower lip, he knew she was about to relent.
“Your family?”
“In part.” A short, succinct reply.
How fitting, the one woman who fascinated him could be so infuriating. “Who else?”
She huffed a sigh. “Society. Blackthorn. Everyone.” The last spoken so softly, he almost missed it.
“What do they have to do with me? With us?”
Her chin raised a fraction. “You are all the same.”
“How so?”
“Qualifying it changes nothing. I wish to return home.”
“I will gladly take you home.”
Relief slumped her shoulders.
He hated to further upset her but he had no intention of abandoning their conversation, not without some answers. “After you tell me what I want to know.”
“I really must remember you lack all gentlemanly qualities,” she retorted under her breath.
Jackson was certain she’d intended for him to hear every word. Silently, he waited.
Another huff passed her lips. “Fine, then.” She faced him fully. “My entire life, expectations have abounded of me. Mother and Father expect me to be the perfect daughter. Always doing what is required, never what I crave. Despite all I accomplish, I still feel as if it isn’t enough.”
She stalked to the edge of the pavilion and whirled around, her hand splayed over her chest. “Heaven forbid I should ever misstep in society. I’m Lady Katherine, daughter of a duke. It is decorum and ritual above all else. Almost as if I’m not my own person. I don’t dare cause a stir because even if I can’t please Father in what I do, I must never displease him.”
Her words fell away as the wind swept them through the trees. His chest ached at the pain she couldn’t disguise. It was obvious she didn’t want to reveal any more, but he had to know—
“What of Blackthorn?”
Fists clenched, she looked everywhere but in his direction. “What about him?”
“What does he expect of you?” Jackson yearned to reach out and tuck the strand of hair, caught in the breeze, behind her ear, but daren’t not. Even with a light brush of his fingers against her skin, he’d be lost.
“That is the worst of it,” she admitted. “Blackthorn is one of the few who generally seems to care about me. Not what our match would mean for his title. Not what my father wishes. And certainly, not how society would view our marriage.”
If she would have plunged a knife into his chest and twisted, it wouldn’t have had the power to cause the deep-seated pain her words achieved. She cared for Blackthorn. He could see it in the guilt clearly written on her face. The guilt he’d put there by causing her to steal around with him.
Yet Blackthorn didn’t know Kate, nor did he understand the difference between her, and the public persona of Lady Katherine.
But I do.
Such a secret might be the only thing powerful enough to weaken the ache Jackson suffered, of having to accede Blackthorn would one day possess Kate in a way he never would.
He shouldn’t ask. Was powerless not to. “Do you wish to marry him?”
Her eyes became hooded, elusive. “He is a good man.”
“Good men don’t necessarily make good husbands.”
“They rarely make bad ones.”
She had a point. One he couldn’t refute, especially in the context of Blackthorn’s worthiness. Based on what few details he knew about the duke, the man would be a perfectly acceptable husband for Kate. If Kate truly wanted him.
Jackson doubted she did.
He sent her a challenging look. “You aren’t engaged yet.”
“The rest is just a formality,” she countered with less conviction.
His heart, which beat harder when she was near, balked at his next question, but Jackson often lacked self-preservation. “Do you love him?”
“Does it matter?”
He roared, “Of course it matters.” And knew his protest revealed how important her answer was.
She studied his face but he couldn’t tell what she sought. She must have found it though, for her features softened and she took a hesitant step closer, placing her hand on his chest. “No, I don’t love him.”
His relief so great his knees nearly buckled. Drawn to her, he captured her in his arms and sealed his lips over hers. Somewhere in their kiss, a promise held. Even as he pulled her tighter, he could feel it; unspoken words that would remain as such.
Jackson uttered a demand he couldn’t seem to silence. “Don’t marry him.”
Kate stilled in his arms, though she didn’t retreat. “I must.”
“Why?”
“It is expected of me.”
His arms itched to anchor her against him; it was as if he felt her slipping through his fingers. Fear, that he hadn’t the power to hold her forever, hardened his voice. “Would you do everything expected of you?”
At his demand, she did pull away. “Why do you even care?” Her voice held a strange challenge. “Do you wish to marry me?”
He couldn’t seem to temper his response, a single word bursting past his lips. “No.” He rushed to explain when a flash of hurt moved through her eyes. “I don’t wish to marry anyone. A wife is not in my plans.”
“And if you fall in love?”
Her directness wasn’t a shock, for nothing about Kate screamed meekness. Which made Jackson wonder even more how her family and the ton—and Blackthorn—didn’t see the woman hidden behind the shroud society had placed over her.
She arched a brow at his silence, expecting him to speak the truth. Only he no longer knew. Nothing had been the same since she’d stumbled upon him that night in the grove. “Not even if I’d fall in love.”
Her shoulders drooped, and his heart sank as her gaze lowered.
Fighting to keep her with him, he turned the question around. “Would you change your plans for love?”
Her head lifted. “I’m marrying—”
“For argument’s sake, if you met someone else, someone you couldn’t help but love, would you walk away from duty, from what is expected, and just be you?”
“Why are you doing this?” she pled softly, her eyes searching his face.
Needing to touch her, he tucked a windblown strand of her dark hair behind her ear, brushing his fingertips along her cheek as he did. “Because I can’t help myself. Because as much as we want to deny it, something changed in the grove. And as much as neither of us wishes to acknowledge it, it exists.”
“That is foolish. Nothing happened in the grove.”
He eyed her in the waning light but she avoided looking at him. Did she believe her own denouement? Was he the only one who suspected something greater was at play?
Considering the source of his suspicions, she probably didn’t think anything unusual about a tree. Because only a crazy person would believe a tree had the power to bring about one’s destiny. Well, a crazy person and Jackson’s nan. Which, on some days, he felt was one and the same.
With a finger under her chin, he urged her attention back to him. “Believe what you want but you still didn’t answer the question. Would you forsake everything you’ve planned because of love?”
“You don’t understand. I will lose everything if I don’t marry Blackthorn. Father would forbid it.”
Determination mingled with sadness swarmed her eyes, causing his breath to hitch, but he persisted. “You would place your father’s wishes before your own? Even if your very happiness was in question?”
“Father has only asked one thing of me, to marry well. This is my chance to gain his approval,” she persisted.
Since he couldn’t stomach listening to her continuously pledge her alliance with her father and Blackthorn, Jackson severed the moment. “I should return you home before you are missed.”
This time she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Jackson, you don’t know what it is like. Your father has never dismissed you your entire life, only acknowledging your worth when you are about to marry someone of quality and rank.”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve spent my life doing what my father wished me not to do. So perhaps I don’t comprehend your plight.” He reached for her hand, relieved when she let him take it. “Come, I will see you home.”
He didn’t have the right to judge Kate, not when he was about to flee England and everything his father and society stood for—
And as a result, bitterly regret not being able to take her with him.