Marriage For Real

‘Worry?’

‘Mmm. You stared at me with those big brown eyes, and I knew you were going to be trouble.’

‘You were attracted?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then…’

‘No.’

‘Then you obviously don’t feel as I feel,’ she said almost crossly.

He smiled. ‘Oh, I expect I do.’

‘But you’re very strong-willed?’ she asked waspishly.

‘Very.’

‘I’m not asking you to marry me!’

‘What are you asking?’

Hesitating only momentarily, she murmured, ‘To get to know you better.’

Placing his by now probably cold cup of coffee on the desk, he asked quietly, ‘How old are you, Sarah?’

‘Twenty-four, nearly twenty-five.’

‘You look younger.’

‘Well, I’m not! And if you’re attracted to someone, well, I mean, it’s a natural progression to…’

‘Kiss?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know what will happen if we do?’

‘I hope so,’ she admitted barely audibly. ‘Please?’

‘You’d better close the door,’ he instructed softly.

Breath hitching in her throat, her eyes held by his, she reached shakily out and closed it. ‘Now what?’

‘Now you come here.’

Staring at him, clear distress in her eyes, she managed, ‘To make me feel cheap?’

‘No,’ he denied gently. ‘To try and make you realise what a fool you’re being.’

Staring down at her linked hands, she whispered, ‘You don’t really want me, do you? I’d better go.’ Turning, she grasped the door handle, and then hesitated. ‘I think I came to tell you I was leaving,’ she mumbled. ‘There’s a bus on Saturday.’ Opening the door, she halted again and turned to give him a rather shaky smile. ‘It is allowed to make a fool of yourself once in a while, isn’t it? It’s part of growing up. Goodbye, Jed.’

Hurrying out, she ran along to her own room and closed the door. Heart beating overfast, feeling stupid and young, she collapsed onto the side of the bed, and then stiffened and looked warily up as the door opened and Jed walked in.

‘I shall probably regret this,’ he said softly. ‘I just pray that you don’t.’ Closing the door, he walked across to her, sat beside her, tilted her chin up with one finger, and kissed her. A soft, gentle, mesmerising kiss. A kiss she was entirely incapable of resisting.

When he lifted his head, she just stared at him. ‘Do you want me? Really?’

For answer, he lay her back across the bed and began to kiss her properly, with experience and expertise, and hunger.

Touching his face, his neck, his back with compulsive little movements, she shook with need and a slight fear. When he finally raised his head, she whispered, ‘I don’t normally behave like this, but you make me feel—things,’ she added vaguely. ‘I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Couldn’t forget the way you touched me.’

‘And you think I can? I’ve been resisting you since you landed at my feet. I should be resisting you now…’

‘Then why aren’t you?’

‘Because, like you said, perhaps it is allowed to be a fool once in a while.’

‘And making love to me would be foolish?’

Tracing one finger round her gentle face, moving aside the wisps of hair that had escaped from her topknot, he said quietly, ‘I don’t want to hurt you…’

Putting her hand over his mouth, she said, ‘You don’t know that you’ll hurt me.’

‘No,’ he agreed.

‘Are you afraid that I’ll be like that woman in Fatal Attraction?’

He gave a quirked smile. ‘No.’

‘I won’t hassle you…’

‘You already hassle me.’

‘You don’t behave as though I do.’

‘No,’ he agreed, but didn’t explain why.

‘I’m not very sophisticated.’

‘No,’ he agreed gently.

‘Or experienced.’

Staring down into her big brown eyes, he gave a helpless sigh. He said something that she didn’t catch, and then he kissed her again. So gently, so thoroughly, so mind-bendingly sweet that she felt tears prick her eyes.

Not wanting to talk any more, with her heart beating overfast and her hands shaking, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and he began to undress her, slowly, methodically, eyes holding hers.