Rain dripped from the eaves and beat at the outside walls of the attic, but Tessa refused to let the dreary weather dim her spirits. It was her wedding day.
"He sent his brother to come get your things," Violet huffed as she stormed into the tiny bedchamber. "Notice that he must not have wanted to come himself."
Tessa took one look at the triumphant malice on the girl's face. It had been no secret that everyone in the household had thought Violet held a good chance of being the major's choice for a bride. She kept her voice low. "His father is gravely ill. Jonah rarely leaves his side."
"He did to be alone with you in the woods." Violet's lip curled. "To compromise you. Everyone is talking about it. And wondering how many men there have been over the years."
Tessa clamped her jaw shut and tamped down her anger. She would not let the vicious girl rile her on this special day. She was getting married, something she had wished for on endless first stars of the night
And to a man who would not be abusive or cruel, to one who made her blood heat and her heart pitter-patter. She was marrying the most eligible bachelor in the whole of Baybrooke village. She, Tessa Bradford.
"Tell Thomas I'll be right down." Tessa turned her back and knelt to secure the old trunk's clasp.
"I'm hardly your servant." Violet's words came sharp, dripping with unveiled hatred. "There is only one reason why Major Hunter has agreed to marry you, and everyone knows it. And it isn't because you were caught with your bodice down. 'Tis because he wants you to take care of his father."
"He could hire ten women far more skilled than I am to tend his father. Everyone knows that, too." She held her chin firm and refused to let Violet's mean words bother her, even if the same thought had occurred to her last night when sleep would not come and she was remembering Jonah's touch, Jonah's passion.
"But some services he cannot hire here in the good township of Baybrooke, as last night proved. Why else would he risk getting caught trying to rut with you? Why else would he want an ugly, sharp-faced old hen when he could have-"
Heavy footsteps knelled in the tiny landing outside the attic room. A man cleared his voice.
Tessa stood to face Thomas Hunter, who was too tall to straighten to his full height outside her tiny bedchamber. "Thomas, I thought to bring the trunk down myself. The ladder is hard to manage."
"I've climbed ladders before carrying heavier items than your small trunk." He looked uncomfortable and his mouth crooked down in the corners. "Are you ready?"
"Aye. I just need to grab my cloak downstairs."
"Then go on down. I will follow with the trunk." He somehow molded his big body against the wall so she could pass.
"You did not need to come. I could have managed-"
"You are family now. The Hunters help their own." His words were cold, but his dark gaze was kind when he looked at her. Then he flicked his head upward to stare harshly at Violet.
"Mr. Hunter." Violet primped her lustrous curls with one soft hand. "How magnificent to have such an esteemed member of the community in our very own house."
" 'Tis a dubious honor at best."
Violet's flirting sagged, and she blinked several times, her jaw slackening.
Turning to climb down the rickety ladder, Tessa tried to hide her smile. She hurried out of Violet's way, who was barreling down after her, her anger at Thomas' insult barely disguised.
"Tessa." A deep bass welcomed from the parlor, proving Violet wrong.
"Jonah." He'd come. Every muscle in her body tensed. The air caught sideways in her throat.
He stood smack in the middle of the room, broad shoulders set, booted feet braced apart. Untamed black hair, windblown and lashed by the rain, framed his strong cut face. A black waistcoat draped his solidly planed chest, and dark breeches hugged his well-muscled thighs.
Fire licked to life inside Tessa's chest. Why was it this man who sent shivers down her spine and heat through her veins? "I did not think to see you before the ceremony."
"Surprise." His gaze raked hers boldly and a brazen grin stretched his mouth, not full-fledged, but just a hint of one, and she had no doubt he was remembering how he'd kissed her and caressed her breasts in the faint light of the moon.
She tingled deep inside at the memory, at the knowledge that he was thinking of it too. And grinning.
"Your grandfather and I have come to an agreement concerning your dowry."
"I didn't know you were expecting one." She flashed her gaze to Grandfather, who stood grave and dour-faced near the parlor's crackling hearth. "Surely there is not much to offer…"
Charity made a gasping sound in the corner, where Violet now huddled beside her. "A much-used bride is worth naught, I can tell you."
A much-used bride. Tessa closed her eyes, willing down the anger before it erupted. Let them think what they wanted. She knew the truth. And so did Jonah. She was a virgin still, yet her stepgrandmother's words did pierce like a well-sharpened edge of a blade.
"I am well enough satisfied," Grandfather grunted, arms crossed over his chest. Despite his unhappy expression, she saw the glint of greed in his eyes, a mostly veiled look of contentment. "All I want is for you to get out of my house before your reckless ways and evil tongue tarnish our good family's name for eternity."
"Amen to that." Charity's shrill voice rang with contempt. "We have Violet's reputation to think of. How many eligible bachelors have refused even to consider her because she is related to you?"
Tessa's stomach roiled at Charity and Violet's accusing gazes. Did they blame her because Jonah did not propose to Violet? She suspected they did.
"Now, Mistress Bradford, a gentle tongue is more becoming than a forked one." Jonah purred the insult so that it sounded less offensive, but all the more effective.
Charity's mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth.
Tessa's chest filled as he extended his hand to her, palm up, powerful and yet infinitely tender. His big fingers curled around hers and gently guided her close to him, not touching, but close enough so that she could smell the wondrous woodland scent of him and see the dark flecks of black in his spellbinding eyes. Anger sizzled there, controlled but definite.
"Come, the good reverend will be at our house in one hour."
"What? You're not marrying in the meetinghouse?" Charity sounded appalled.
"Nay, my father is too ill to leave his bed, and he wishes to see the ceremony." With a half-grin, half-frown shaping his face, he stalked to the front door.
Thomas clomped down the narrow staircase from the second story, after apparently successfully negotiating the attic ladder, her small trunk balanced easily on one capable shoulder.
Jonah jerked open the door and held it for her. She snatched her cloak from the peg, and her heart soared at the tug of his hands on the garment, helping her into it. The way he treated her in front of her family made her want to run out into the yard and shriek for joy.
She was finally rid of those people who had caused her an unrelenting unhappiness, who had been so cruel to her mother.
And yet, as Jonah followed her out into the cold rain and the mess of mud and melting snow, she had to wonder. Was she trading one kind of unhappiness for another?
She'd vowed long ago only to marry for love, and even then always to keep her independence, for she would never forget her mother's unhappiness or the lessons of her death.
As Jonah placed both big hands at her waist to boost her up into his wagon, she could not meet his gaze, could not bear to look at his handsome face. Her body reacted to his touch, swift and hard, and heat spilled into her veins and spread through her abdomen.
She was making a grave mistake. She knew it with an unerring certainty as she settled her skirts on the seat. And yet there was no mistaking how Jonah cared for her.
Love you, he'd said, low and barely audible, and his remembered words melted her heart.
Panic mounted with each step of the horse. When he arrived home, they would marry, he and Tessa. Marry. Damn, how that set his heart a-beating. He fought the urge to toss down the reins and run.
Be reasonable, he told himself. Surely this is a logical reaction to impending matrimony. All men must feel the same way, like a coward, wanting to flee after realizing the permanency of such an act.
Tessa sat beside him, her face bowed against the rain. He could see little of it for the brim of her old hat, but the tight curve of her clenched jaw told him she was having fears too.
He didn't fool himself. He'd feel this way about marrying any female. Love was a ridiculous emotion, one that could not exist in a heart lost long ago on a bloody battlefield. He had seen the true nature of life, of death and brutality, and he ought to take comfort that his bride was no green girl, head full of silly and romantic notions. Tessa was a woman of duty.
Aye, there was a small squeeze to his heart when he looked at her. Thomas had told him of the small chamber she lived in, tucked beneath the roof, as cold and damp as a chicken hut, barely large enough to hold a small pallet and her old trunk. The poor woman had no real bed.
The burning anger in his chest flickered to life again. Ely was a squinty-eyed weasel. And the money Jonah had handed over to appease both him and Horace Walling made him sick inside. Not at the loss of such a substantial chunk of coin, but because the old man had acted as if Tessa was a cow to be sold.
The house loomed up ahead, a gray shape in the gloom of the unrelenting rain. "Are you thinking of running off the minute I stop this wagon?"
She nodded, turning just enough toward him so that he could see the luminous depth of her eyes, filled with worry, pinched with fear. "Aye. It did cross my mind."
"Mine, too." It comforted him that she was as uncertain as he. That showed she had sense, that he had not judged wrongly. She knew marriage was duty, not romance for starry-eyed lovers. "I told Father the news this morning when he asked why you hadn't come to tend him."
"Jonah, I should have come."
" 'Twas best this way. I had time alone with him, as I've been wanting, and you needed to pack. You shall never return to that household again."
Something bright and wondrous gleamed in Tessa's eyes, so compelling he could not look away. "Thank you, Jonah. You don't know what that means to me."
Complaints and heartache, even anger, went unspoken. Rain tapped steadily between them, the sound multiplied a thousand times across the yard as Jonah halted the wagon. One of the horses exhaled loudly, mayhap protesting the weather.
"Here we are." Jonah handed the reins to his brother, who had already agreed to tend to the horses so that he might be able to take care of his bride. "I'll take your trunk up to my chamber."
"Oh." Her eyes widened. She paled suddenly, as if struck ill. Or realizing that tonight they would share a bed.
Heat thrummed in his groin. The thought of her naked beneath him, her head thrown back in passion made his pulse jump, made him want, just want. He would never forget the heady taste of her passion-laced kiss or the little catch in her breath when he'd first touched her breasts. He wanted to hear that sound again, right now. He wanted to see her with candlelight brushing her full breasts. He wanted her naked and out of control and all his.
Somehow, he managed to help her down from the wagon and shouldered her trunk from the back of the wagon bed. He followed her through the parlor and up the stairs to his chamber down the hall. She didn't meet his gaze as she stood before the window, the gray light limning her lean woman's curves and the sensual luxury of her dark hair.
His groin thrummed, and his breeches felt unusually tight. Aye, he wanted her. Tonight she would be his. "The reverend should be here within the next half hour."
She looked at him with eyes wide with apprehension. "I need to change into my dress."
He set the trunk along the wall by the door and tried not to imagine how she would peel off that dark sensible dress and reveal the soft firm breasts beneath.
"I'll leave you alone, then." He turned before he imagined undressing her further. "I need to check on Father."
She merely nodded, her arms wrapped tight around her middle. He left her then, his shaft bent double in his breeches, hard and pulsing, and closed the door.
Tonight would not be soon enough to make her his.
"Jonah," Father called, weak and thin sounding.
"I'm here." Taking a breath, he tried to will away the very pulse of his blood, then crossed the hall. The chamber still smelled of sickness-a weak, low scent that reminded him of midnight.
Father struggled to turn his head on the pillows. "You caught me reading. The good news of your wedding has helped me improve. I believe I can almost sit up."
"Mayhap I can read to you, as long as you stay lying down." Jonah pulled the wooden chair close to the bed, concern and tenderness for this man warm in his chest.
" 'Twould be a great comfort. 'Tis a new volume of poetry by John Donne."
"Hand me the book. Where is Andy? I thought he would have offered to read to you."
Father's hands trembled with terrible weakness as he handed over the slim, leather-bound book. "Seeing to hiring a few village women for a celebration dinner. Since we lost Sarah when her term was done, we are in sore need of help. We can't expect Tessa to wait upon all four of us men. Not if you get her with child soon."
"Aye, the son you expect of me." Jonah cracked open the book with practiced care.
Dark eyes glimmered. "Have you bedded her yet, boy?"
"What?"
Father's laughter, punctuated by a cough or two, filled the room with his happiness. "I may be a sick old man staring death straight in the face, but I'm sharp enough yet to recognize certain things. I remember what lust looks like. And feels like, too."
"You heard how Ely came upon us last night."
"Aye, no doubt the entire village knows. Tessa is a wise choice in a wife, good and kind. And if you cannot keep your hands off her, 'tis even better. A warm wife in bed makes for a contented husband."
"More of your wisdom, eh?" Jonah leafed past the title page of the volume.
"You chose well." Father closed his eyes. "Read to me, son."
Jonah began reading aloud, hearing the tightness in his own voice. And as the clock ticked patiently on the mantle above the fire, he felt his bachelorhood slip away. It was much to surrender, but his father had asked this of him. So he would marry Tessa and hope for the best
"Tessa, Reverend Brown is here." A knock rattled the closed door.
"I'll be right out." She gave her hair one more brush stroke. Her worries had turned into a full-fledged panic. Only the thought of returning to Grandfather's home kept her steady enough to open the door.
Jonah held out his hand. "Come. Father is waiting."
He was a man used to issuing orders and having them followed, a war hero, a leader of men. Her heart stammered at the sight of him.
"I suppose no one in my family has arrived." She laid her fingers against his palm, rough and callused but solid and comforting and oh, so hot.
"Nay. Ely proclaimed he did not approve of the union, especially since he discovered me with my hands down your bodice." A wry grin twisted his mouth, and pleasure snapped in his eyes.
Oh, he looked proud of himself for that. "I never should have allowed you such liberties. Else you could be marrying a more suitable bride."
He halted at the head of the stairs. One dark brow quirked. "Is that what you think? That I'm forced to take you as my wife?"
She swallowed and nodded.
"Tessa." His voice melted, like butter before heat, supple and warm. "I can think of no other I could stomach as well as you for my wife."
"Aye, so now you make jokes."
"Well, we need a jest to relieve this tension. Besides, I don't want a silly child for a wife. We went to school together, and I survived your sharp tongue."
"As I survived your braid pulling."
"I say we shall do fine enough in a marriage." His dark eyes sizzled, stroking across her breasts with a glittering look of anticipation. "I have sampled enough to expect good things to come."
"Aye, you are a devil's spawn." She blushed, her stomach tumbling to her knees. This man was trouble, pure and simple. And yet he was her best chance for a real future, for marriage and happiness and children.
He cared for her enough to pay Grandfather and Horace Walling, enough to marry her. Not every man who ruined a woman's reputation offered her his last name. Jonah cared for her, and that thought fortified her. Made it easier to flash him a smile as they descended into the parlor where the minister waited.
"Let us start this ceremony before both of us drop dead from the anxiety."
"Brace yourself, Mistress Tessa." Thomas caught her hand to wish her luck. "You're marrying a rogue no other woman would have."
She laughed, for his eyes teased. "Aye, I know. 'Tis a foolhardy thing I do, but mayhap it will earn me a spot in heaven for marrying such a toad."
"An ugly toad, no less," Andy piped up.
"Enough." Jonah boomed, holding up one hand. "Stay the insults. Make fun all you want after the ceremony. I have a great need to make this woman my wife."
His arm slipped around her waist, and they faced the minister together. Laughter filled the elegant parlor, despite the gray weather outside, despite the solemn occasion.
"Dearly beloved," the reverend began and the room quieted so that the tick of the clock sounded loud, louder than the rain tapping at the diamond paned windows, even louder than the erratic beat of her heart.
With the simple words of "I do," and a kiss so hot her toes felt afire, she became Mrs. Jonah Hunter.
"He's asleep." Jonah knelt at the old man's bedside, next to his quiet wife, merely a shadow sitting out of reach of the single taper's light. "Andy will stay with him the rest of the night."
Her eyes widened, and she knew what he was thinking. What had to come next? He had bided his time all afternoon and evening, blood zinging through his veins, knowing she was to be his. He could not explain this physical desire for her, but it grew in intensity with every breath he took.
The knowledge of what was to come shadowed her face. So dark they were, lustrous and inviting. So dark the pupils in her eyes. Luminous with desire. "The colonel is exhausted from today's excitement. I don't want to take my eyes off him."
"Andy will fetch us if there's any sign of trouble."
A rustle sounded from the chair by the fireplace. "Aye, I will. Jonah has already spoken to me."
He shot a warning look at his younger brother, who was still half horrified in his choice of wife. Jonah had made it clear to both brothers he and Tessa were to have their privacy tonight.
With the way the urgency beat in his blood, he was already hard with wanting her. So much want. So very hard. And all she did was look at him.
Aye, Father was right. He would not mind the binds of marriage overmuch with Tessa to satisfy him. She smiled faintly, her chin wobbling. Aye, she must be feeling this need too. He remembered how she had tossed her head when he'd stroked the peaks of her breasts, and how she arched her back, readily offering up those sweet dusky nipples.
Fie on Ely for interrupting him. But that would not happen tonight. Need wrapped around his lower spine, swift and keen. He took Tessa's hand in his and stood.
She did as well. She had changed out of the soft beige gown of her mother's and now wore a somber homespun dress. The dark fabric shivered around her hips and thighs when she stood. Such a sensuous movement, supple and light. He had no doubt that was the way Tessa would behave in his bed, head thrown back, arching up to meet him.
"Come." He cleared his throat, but his voice sounded husky to his own ears. " 'Tis time to retire for the night."
In the corner, Andy blushed and turned to face the fire. Mayhap he did not see the true nature of Tessa Bradford the way Jonah did.
"Andy, make certain to steep the tea at midnight and again at three in the morning. 'Tis a medicine that will aid his recovery." She brushed at her skirts, a nervous gesture.
Andy made some grunt of agreement, still red-faced. Jonah held back his chuckle at the young man who was more sheltered than the rest of the Hunter brothers.
He held open the door for Tessa, then followed her out into the hall. The shadows and darkness swallowed her, but her hand was warm within his. "I have been thinking of this all day."
"So have I." She sounded shy, and he liked that.
"I have not forgotten our night together in the forest." He led her to his chamber-theirs, now- and released her hand so he could light a taper. Just one, 'twould be enough to see her by.
"Do you regret it?" A weak flame flickered to life, revealing the wide depth of her eyes.
"Only that we could not finish what we started." He still remembered how free she was, this woman renowned for her sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude. How well she had hidden her true nature all these years, passion smoldering beneath dark homespun.
A spark of want blazed to life in his chest, brazen and possessive, building with each beat of his heart. That passion would be his, as she was his, now and forever.
She had retreated to the corner of the room, cloaked in shadows near the window where a constant rain tapped at the glass. So, she was shy, preferring darkness to the light. Well, he would soon fix that.
"Come, show me your wanton nature." He curled one hand around her nape, the silken luxury of her curls teasing his knuckles, and the heat of her skin scorched his palm. " 'Tis what I crave."
"Jonah," she breathed, as his mouth descended on hers.
He tasted the sweetness of his name on her lips. She was heated satin, and he was spellbound. He flicked his tongue across the seam of her mouth and she opened up to him with a tentative brush of her tongue to his.
Fire streaked through his chest, burning hotter, brighter. Aye, she responded to him, molding her lips to his, licking and sucking. She was but a temptress. The flames in his chest built until every part of him felt on fire, until he laid his hands on her breasts, despite the barrier of cotton, and kneaded and rubbed.
On a moan, she arched into his touch, head falling back. Hell, but she was going to destroy him. Already his hands shook with want, his body trembled with every pulse of his beating heart, and his shaft stretched his breeches to the limit.
He tugged hard at her collar and the wooden buttons at her nape gave in one swift ripple, leaving the fabric loose around her shoulders. He licked his way down her neck, feasting on the salty sweetness of her skin and her throaty moans, dragging the fabric down with him. The straps of her chemise slipped easily down her creamy shoulders to reveal breasts shadowed and untouched by light. But not by him.
He dragged one pebbled nipple into his mouth, and she groaned low, breathing his name.
"Oh, Jonah. Yes." Her hair cascaded over her shoulders to brush at his cheek. She arched hard into him and her fingers wrapped around his neck to hold him there.
Pulse thundering in his ears, Jonah ran his tongue around the silken nub, taut and supple, and then suckled hard enough to made her gasp, to make her body tremble with hard coursing pleasure. Aye, he knew how it felt, to want, to ache. It was in her glazed eyes, dark and pooled with emotion. The same need beat within his veins and sparked the air between them.
Aye, he could wait no more. He gave her dress a mighty pull. One button popped and hit the wooden floor, rolling to a stop, and her garments slid down her hips to pool in a dark puddle at her ankles.
"Jonah, I don't think-"
"Don't think," he advised, as he scooped her up and laid her back on the bed. How bewitching she looked wearing only a set of drawers and her shoes. He knelt to take them off, and her stockings, too. "You know what I want. And thought has no place in what we're about to do."
He straddled over her, his knees on either side of her thighs, and tugged off his shirt. Aye, she was a beauty, lying within the brush of candlelight, her skin gleaming gold and her breasts firm and inviting. Her eyes darkened as she studied the breadth of his bare chest. So, she liked what she saw. He loosened his breeches, determined to show her more.
Hard as steel, his shaft sprang out How her gaze clamped onto that sight, her mouth opening slightly. Her intake of breath confirmed she had not been expecting so much of him.
"Is this what you have been thinking of too, seeing me like this?" He untied the bow at her waist and her drawers loosened. "For 'tis all I have been wanting since we last met"
"Jonah?"
"What is it, sweet?" And how sweet she was. He parted fabric and discovered a softly curving belly, and below a thatch of dark hair.
"I know what happens, but-"
"But what?" Her thighs opened and his fingers parted delicate folds to discover dampness and heat.
"You're so very big." Her breath came swift and broken.
"Aye, and you'll like it, I promise." How wondrous she felt here, heat and satin, and his fingers explored the texture of her there, where the candlelight did not reach.
"Truly? I'm told there is much pain the first time."
His fingers continued to stroke and explore. She lay before him, thighs apart, naked and aroused and ready, so ready. "I'll be gentle. Do you like this?"
"Aye, your touches are good. So very good." A small grain of fear lived in her voice. But even more desire.
"Aye, 'tis good." She looked so wanton, 'twas all he could do to keep himself from taking her now. " 'Twill feel even better, I promise."
"How could it possibly be better?" Pleasure glazed her eyes, and she felt liquid at his persistent caresses. "How long I have wanted you, just like this, and now you are ready." He stretched out over her, and he felt her sink more deeply into the mattress. "Show me how passionate you can be. I want to know that part of you."
"But I-"
He silenced her with a kiss, a fiery kiss that involved lips and teeth and tongue. He felt her body's reaction, for it was stretched full out beneath him. She strained up to take more of his kiss and her breasts pillowed his chest, her nipples scraping his chest hair. Her thighs parted just a bit, and he took advantage, pressing with the inside of his knees so she opened just for him.
"You like the feel of me, don't you?" The swollen head of his shaft thrummed against her dampness and heat.
"Jonah, 'tis not what I expected." She gasped, fighting for breath and for control.
He could feel it too, how they were both on the edge. Blood thrummed through his veins, rich with want, pulsing with the strident need to bury every inch of his shaft inside her. Now. He could wait no longer. She was woman-hot and bewitching as he pressed into her, into the first welcome gloving of her body.
"Is this better than you expected?"
"Aye. How you're stretching me."
"And filling you up."
Slowly, now. He closed his eyes tight, determined to fight the thrumming pleasure daring him to plunge deeper, to take all he could from her. Aye, how he wanted to be sheathed completely in her silken heat. "I can feel how you like this."
" Tis so wondrous." Her words were broken, low and throaty. "Oh, Jonah."
Her head lolled back and he felt her body lift, her hips drive up to take more of him. Something gave and she gasped, and it was too late to take back control. He drove deep as she rose up to meet him. Sensation gripped the base of his spine and every inch she clenched within her. Pleasure that cut as sharp as a blade's edge made him call out, made him drive into her again and again.
She rose up to meet him with bold thrusts of her hips. Her hands snaked around his back to settle on his buttocks, clamping him to her as her ankles locked behind his hips. She moaned his name over and over again, and he could feel how close she was, the hard clamping of her muscles, the tremulous tension in her body. And then her release. Her head braced against his throat, her hips lifted, her body clenched in one wave after another.
He could not hold on. Tight punches of release struck low in his back and pulsed through his shaft, through every muscle and bone. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep in the cry of surrender, but he could not. His surrender, his possession of her was complete.
At the last pulse of his seed, he collapsed. All at once he was aware of her arms around his back, cradling him close, and her gentle kisses at his throat and chin.
"How you move me," he admitted, and then wished he could pull back the words.
Her smile became a kiss, and they started all over again.