Breathless (The House of Rohan 3)

He let his hand slide down her neck, his thumb brushing against the softness of her throat, feeling the hammering of her pulse. It would be so easy to move his head down, put his mouth against hers and kiss her the way he had that night so long ago, kiss her with the full and glorious longing that could lead to so much more.

But if he did he’d have to pull her onto his lap, possibly ruining himself for any future pleasure. And even if he did manage to rearrange himself properly before she landed, what was the likelihood he’d be able to stop if she’d prove to be the slightest bit acquiescent?

And she’d be more than that. He knew women, and he knew his Jane. She was in love with him, dazzled by him, and if there were the slightest chance he could have her then he’d make her a good husband. He’d already given over Beggar’s Ken to Jem and Gracie, and he had more than enough money to keep them in whatever style she wanted.

But she’d be shunned, he thought, absently stroking the side of her neck, his fingers gently touching her collarbone. And he wouldn’t ask it of her.

So no kisses, no matter how badly he wanted them. He’d hold her chastely, like the saint he wasn’t, and—

“Get your hands off me,” snapped his gentle beloved.

He didn’t, of course. He simply shifted her around to face him, thankfully adjusting his own rebellious body at the same time. “Enough is enough, Janey. Tell me what’s gotten you in such a swivet. ”

“I’m not …” He put his hand across her mouth silencing her.

“Don’t lie to me, darlin’. You’d fair like to cut my throat, and I’m wanting to know why. ”

“I don’t … I don’t like being touched. ”

He grinned, and he was close enough for her to see it. “Now that’s not true. You fair purr like a little cat when I touch you. ”

“Not true. So there’s no need for you to … to … feel sorry for me. I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need you to hold me like a child till I feel better. ”

Realization was beginning to dawn. “I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said in a practical voice. “And I wasn’t precisely holding you like a child. ”

“Please, don’t. ” There was real misery in her voice.

It was so patently ridiculous that he wished he didn’t have to spin this particular bit of idiocy along. He was about to reach for her when the carriage pulled to a stop, and he realized they’d come to an inn.

He practically leaped out of the carriage, knowing that in another minute he would have said everything he was determined not to say. Not until he had to.

When he turned to help her down from the carriage he saw that she’d already managed it herself, wincing slightly at her stiff muscles, and he told himself he wasn’t going to think about how he could rub those muscles, loosen them right up and then make them all tense again in the best possible way.

“Does the lass want something to eat?” the innkeeper inquired.

Jane shook her head. “Just a bed, thank you,” she said in her small, polite voice, not looking at him.

“I’ll have Simmons bring your trunk, Miss Pagett,” Jacob said politely.

“Of course you will,” was her odd reply as she disappeared up the winding stairs.

He stood and watched her go. He’d mortally offended her, that much was sure. Or maybe she’d just realized how very foolish she’d been, running off with a thief. One guess was as good as another, and the last thing he was going to do was ask her. That could get them both into too much trouble, and besides, he might not like the answer.

Simmons dropped the small trunk down to him, and Jacob caught it easily. It was about the same size as the one he’d used to clock her fiancé, and he relived that glorious moment for an instant before dropping it at the foot of the stairs for the landlord to deliver.

“I’ll see to the horses, Jacob,” Simmons said. “A poultice and a good night’s rest should help matters, and then we can hire new ones at the next posting house if you’re still in such a bloody hurry. ”

Jacob glanced toward the stairs. She’d disappeared behind a closed door now, shutting him out of her life, and he told himself he was glad.

He turned back to Simmons. “Maybe you’d best give the horse another day and night,” he said, wanting to kick himself as he did.

“Yon lass giving you trouble?” Simmons said sympathetically.

“No more than I can handle. ”

“The day Jacob Donnelly finds a woman more than he can handle is the day I give up on women altogether myself. We’ll have all lost hope then,” Simmons said with a heartfelt sigh.

Jacob resisted the impulse to tell him to prepare for a life of celibacy. Jane Pagett was a rare handful, and he still wasn’t sure how it was all going to end.