Fate's Intervention (39 page)

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Authors: Barbara Woster

BOOK: Fate's Intervention
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Marcelle giggled,

Y
ou
should have seen yours and dad

s face! What a sight that was!


I

ll just bet it was, you devil,

Matthew said, running his fingers along her jaw line.

Now, I think
it’s
payback time.


What do you mean, payback? What did I do?

Marcelle said, her skin tingling along the path his hand took.


Well, I did warn you about teasing me, didn

t I?

Matthew said softly, his gaze lowering to her lips.


You mean I

m not allowed to tease you in the least? I thought you only meant that I couldn

t tease about wanting you to kiss me?


Do you?


What?


Want me to kiss you?


Would you think me overly audacious if I said yes, very much?


Perhaps, but you know you really don

t have a choice in the matter. I intend to kiss you with or without your consent.


Oh, really . . . ,

Marcelle started, but her half-hearted protest was cut short by Matthew

s mouth.

He drew back after a moment, a look of concern on his face,

I

m sorry. You

ve been assaulted enough in the last week, and here I go doing it again.


No, Matthew,

Marcelle said, placing a light kiss on his stubbled chin,

what your brother did last night was an assault. This, on the other hand is something altogether different.


M
m
m, then I take it you approve of my attentions, Miss?


You know, that question is ripe for a good teasing, but I think I

ll refrain for once and just answer what

s in my heart. Kiss me again, please.

Matthew smiled,

It would be my
pleasure
, but why don

t we go sit in the parlor. I

ll light a fire and I

ll give you all the kisses your heart desires.

Matthew moved away, but Marcelle stood rooted to where she was. She

d never flirted with a man to this extent before, but something told her that the flirting would stop if she went into that parlor and something altogether different would start.

If she thought she was genuinely ready for that something different, she

d be in that parlor far ahead of Matthew. She did know that she

d never had feelings like this before
;
ignited places she wasn

t even aware of until his first kiss, but was she ready to give her
self
to him
fully
?

She had no difficulty facing the reality that she was likely to be a spinster, was already headed down that road, in point of fact, but did that mean she should debauch herself with a man simply because he made her tingle all over?
A
fter
all, she was going to be living with that same man for the rest of her life and he

d all but made it clear that he had no desire to marry, her or anyone else. Would she be willing to live as a kept woman in place of matrimony?


Marcelle, what is it?

Matthew asked, when he noticed that she wasn

t following him.


Matthew,

Marcelle interrupted softly,

I don

t want you to get the impression that I

m deliberately
taunting
you, but I don

t think it

s a good idea to go into the parlor. In fact, I think I should go ahead and retire for the night.

Matthew

s brow knitted in confusion,

D
id
I say something to offend you, Marcelle?


No,

Marcelle sighed,

it

s just very confusing for me.
All
of this.


What

s confusing? I want to kiss you and you want me to kiss you. Can

t get any less complicated than that.


I know I

m only a naive seventeen-year-old woman, but even I know that kissing leads to things that we can

t do, and the way you kiss me, I don

t think I

ll be able to say no if kissing heads in that direction. Would you be able to control yourself and stop?


A
h. Honestly, I don

t think so. I readily admit that I want you, so it would be extremely difficult to pull away once I touched you.


S
ame with me. I

ve never had a man touch me the way you do. I like it. I like it a lot, but it wouldn

t be right to keep letting you touch me when we can

t do anything about the feelings the touching ignites in us.
Therefore,
I guess the best thing to do is admit we had some fun and leave things as they are.
As
friends.


Friends,

Matthew said, his voice soft and monotone. He was having a difficult time with this, especially since the statement about not wanting him to stop made him want to dive across the table and do everything
but
stop.


Well, we are good friends, aren

t we?
Still
, we have to face facts

you have no desire to wed and I have no desire to be an unwed mother
; s
o, that being said, we really should set some ground rules. Behave like mature adults.
W
e
will
be living together for quite a long time.


Ground rules.


A
s my
father
would say, stop parroting me,

Marcelle chided gently.

I

m just trying to
be
reason
able.


You make me feel anything but
reason
able.

Matthew raised a hand to silence her when it looked as if she would interrupt him.

We

ll discuss this when I return, Marcelle. Just go to bed,

he said, then groaned as the thought of her in his bed ran through his mind. He rubbed a hand across his face.

A
nd
if you are still standing here gaping at me when I remove my hand from my face, then my actions are going to be far from sensible.

When he looked up, Marcelle had fled.


Damn
!

He muttered. He

d hoped that she

d still be there and he would be able to carry through with his threat
, b
ut he knew that hope was preposterous. She was right. He was ready to take what he had no right to take and that made him no better than
his brother was
. It was a good thing he was leaving on the morrow. He had some serious thinking to do and if he stayed here in this house to do it, his other head was going to keep interfering with his thinking abilities.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE

A
noise woke her.

Marcelle moaned angrily and cracked her tired lids to peer around the room, trying to pierce the blackness. She lifted her head and listened, but heard nothing further
. S
he
sighed and
lowered her head wearily back
t
o her pillow and rolled onto her side. She really needed to get some sleep, she told herself. The sound of chirping crickets returned and she willed them to lull her to sleep, as they had every night since she was born, but even that grated on her nerves. She flapped her pillow over her ears and tried counting sheep, but visions of Matthew

s angry visage kept playing repeatedly in her mind, followed by his tender kisses. She groaned again and rolled to her other side.


A
ar
rg
g
h
h,

she snapped, tossing her pillow away and slinging her quilt back. She slid off the bed and moved over to the window determined to shut out all sounds, none of which were soothing her tightly wound nerves as they normally would.
Her toe struck the
bedpost
and let out an uncharacteristic string of unladylike words. She lifted her foot and rubbed the sore appendage, hopping along toward her goal.
Leaning over the sill, she started to pull the shutters closed when
the sound of a horse

s whinny reached her ears.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. It sounded as if the whinny had come from right beneath her window, but how had the horse managed to get out of its stall unless someone . . . Matthew!

As
quickly as she could maneuver through the darkness, Marcelle returned to her bedside and groped around for the matches to light her candle. Her hand shook nervously, as she struck the ruby-tipped stick against the side of the box. Matthew was leaving too early. Why? She wondered.

The room erupted into light. Marcelle turned and snatched up her robe, pulling it on frantically. She had to hurry.

She lifted the candle and left the room, moving as quickly as the flickering light on the wick would allow. When she reached the bottom landing, she looked around and saw a dim light filtering from beneath the dining room door. Not too late. She
breathed
a sigh of relief.

She hurried over
. M
atthew pushed through from the other side
, nearly knocking Marcelle over. The
wind from the door blew out Marcelle

s candle, throwing the room into semi-darkness.


What the . . . ?

Matthew started, instinctively reaching for the gun holstered on his hip. His vigil relaxed when he saw Marcelle, then he tensed as tight as a bow string when he realized that she was standing in front of him in next to nothing.

Damn! He thought. Didn

t the woman have a shred of common sense?


Go back to bed, Marcelle,

he growled. He reached into his pocket for a match. Striking it along the wood frame of the kitchen door, he relit her candle, then wished he hadn

t. He could see her much better now and she looked far too sexy in her current state of dishevelment.


But you

re leaving!

Marcelle said, following along behind him when he shoved past her to lay his supplies beside his gear near the front door.


I have a train to catch, or have you forgotten that?


I didn

t know trains pulled out this early in the morning,

she persisted, still reeling over the fact that he intended to leave without saying goodbye.

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