Page 93 of Jane Deyre
Lifting the rim of my floppy hat, he smacks a kiss on my lips. “I don’t either. You’re a one and only, Jane Deyre. A rare bird.” He’s about to kiss me again, this time cradling my face, when Adele’s cheery voice fills our ears. We quickly break away and look in her direction. She waves at her father.
“Papa! Come into the pool!”
“Maybe later.”
Cocking her head, she gives him a coy look. “Are you going to kiss Jane again?”
My precocious girl knows.
“Maybe later.”
“Promise?”
Taking off his sunglasses, he winks at his daughter and holds up a pinky. “Promise.”
“Bien!”With an ear-to-ear grin, she floats off, vigorously kicking her little feet.
Ward looks at me, with a cocky smile and a devilish glint in his eyes. “Well, Miss Deyre, promises should be kept…”
Before I can take my next breath, he steals another kiss. Hot and fierce like the sun.
Still kissing me passionately, he kicks off his shoes and tears off his clothes.
“Jane, I need to cool off,” he mumbles before surrendering my lips.
I blink my eyes open and catch my breath. He’s now clad in his swim trunks. I can’t get my eyes off him. His washboard abs and muscular limbs. And that face of an Adonis. They never cease to make my heart pitter-patter.
He sets the book on the table beside me and then sweeps me into his arms.
“I’ve got another promise to keep.” His eyes burning into mine, he plucks the spaghetti straps of my swim suit. As if he’s playing with my heartstrings. Totally turning me on. “And, Miss Deyre, like it or not, you’re coming with me.”
A few rapt breaths later, with a joyous Adele splashing around us, the man I love holding me, I’m floating on water. I’m floating in air.
Reader, I ask you: Can my life get any better?
That evening Ward makes heart-stopping love to me in his room. Usually, I hate to leave him, but tonight I’m eager to get back to the guesthouse. Eager to startThe Queen of Thornhill.
Coming off our stratospheric orgasms, bared to each other, I lie on top of him, anchoring my hands on his broad shoulders to lift my upper body. I gaze into his smoldering eyes. With a dreamy smile, he strokes my hair, traces lazy circles on my chest, and kisses a very sensitive spot beneath my chin.
“Jane, stay with me. Read the memoir here with me. I want to watch you read it. I want to hear what you think.”
The temptation is great. “Ward, I can’t. It’s too risky.”
“What are you afraid of, my love? I’m here to protect you. I’d slay dragons for you if I had to.”
“Would you slay that dragon woman?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Ms. Fairfax. She’s out to get me... and will do anything within her power.”
“Forget about her. Stay.”
I roll off him, then slide off the bed before he can hold me back, and quickly don my clothes. Then, grab the book off his nightstand.
“Goodnight, Mr. Rochester,” I say and hurry out of the room.
I depart Thornhill as usual through the servants’ entrance, and as I jog along the pebbled path to the guesthouse, I look over my shoulder. Watching me from her second-floor window, her arms folded, is Ms. Fairfax. A shiver skitters down my spine. She smirks at me, as if she’s watched and heard my every move and word, before yanking the curtains closed.