Best Kept Secret (Rochester Trilogy 3)

“Like what?” The heat of him fills the room.

“You with all the power and me with nothing. I’m not here as a penniless employee who can be sent away at any moment.”

Beau looks as torn as I’ve ever seen him look. “And I can’t keep you here? I can’t keep you safe?”

“No. Only I can do that.”

Beau takes a step back, closing himself off from me. He folds his arms across his chest, expression stormy. “Why did you come back, Jane?”

“Because Emily asked for my help. She’s been in hiding since she saw Joe Causey kill Rhys, and she wanted my help. And she’s Paige’s mother.”

“You believe her.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten on the plane otherwise.”

This doesn’t calm him. “Why the hell are you here if you won’t let me protect you? Anything could have happened to you.” His fear is barely disguised behind his anger. “Why would you bother coming back if I can’t—”

“You have to give me the choice.” He shakes his head at the interruption. Does he even know he’s doing it? “I want to choose. I’m not the nanny you can send away whenever you’re finished with me. And I’m not your prisoner. I belong to myself before I belong to you.”

“Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fine, Jane. You belong to yourself. Is that what you want me to say? That you can leave? I don’t want—” He swallows the rest of his sentence. “What do you want?”

“I’m choosing to be here. With you.”

CHAPTER SIX

Jane Mendoza

“You’re choosing this.” Beau’s tone is almost sarcastic. Sharper than I’ve heard in a long time. It’s worse than it was the night I arrived at Coach House. Back then, he didn’t know me. He’d never claimed to care about me. Now he’s done those things and more. “This.”

“I’m not made of porcelain.” I feel more breakable with him staring at me like this, but I stand my ground. Beau sent me away because he thought I would be safer away from him.

I came back because the danger is worth it.

I know it is. Or it will be, once things are settled. They can’t be settled until Beau and I work this out. The tension in the room feels like a wire about to snap. It’s wound up around my heart. It’s like watching him fall off a cliff, only he’s standing right in front of me.

“Oh?” He advances on me, the broad strength of him intimidating. My heart speeds up. But I keep my eyes on his. This is a challenge from Beau. I’m not sure I can win. Maybe he can break me, even if I tell him I’m not fragile. He could break my heart. My body.

My body definitely wants him, even though he pushed me away. There’s so much heat between my thighs and wearing a bra is a small torture. I want his mouth on mine and his skin against mine. Even like this. Beau is so close we’re sharing the same air. I can see the lightning flashes of anger in his eyes. He’s taller, and so much stronger, so much more muscle.

If I fought him, I would lose. No question in my mind. I couldn’t resist him. I couldn’t push him away.

I don’t want to fight him.

He’s looking for signs that I do. Expecting them. I can see that in his eyes and in the way his mouth curves into the beginnings of a sneer. I stand up taller and let him do it. Yes, my heart is pounding. Yes, I would say that I was scared. I’m still not going to cower.

He puts a fist in my hair and drags me closer. The pain surprises me. I almost let a cry escape from my lips. No—I won’t do it. This is a test. He leans in so close I think he must be about to kiss me again. I want to taste his desperation. It would make us closer together, if he would let me have that. He must think kissing me before was a mistake. That it might have shown his hand.

He doesn’t kiss me.

Beau bites me instead.

A new shock of pain reverberates through me. “What if I pushed you too far?” he murmurs against my bitten lips. “What if I demand too much? Would you stop me?”

My breath catches. I’m not sure if I would stop him. I don’t know, I don’t know. I want him too much. It makes my decisions hazy and hard to hold on to. The sensation of his hands on me and his eyes on me and his heat in this room makes it impossible to say what I’d do. Shameful, for a woman who should know better.

I don’t know better than Beau Rochester.

A sound escapes him, like a laugh, and I see in his eyes that he’s sensed my weakness and indecision. He turns me in his hands and pushes my face against the wall. I press my cheek against the rose-patterned wallpaper of the inn and try to breathe. Beau’s hands are everywhere on me now. He’s touching me everywhere, groping, rough. Hard squeezes on sensitive skin. My breasts. My belly. Everywhere he can reach. My breathing comes faster. With the wall hemming me in, I’m caught. It’s the worst position to be in. The one I’m supposed to avoid at all costs.