Once Upon a Lady (The Soul Mate Tree Book 8)

by Addie Jo Ryleigh

  His deep voice startled her when he spoke again. “Just as you shouldn’t be here, neither should I. I have no wish to wed, and you are the type of lady who marries.”

  She studied the pattern of the blanket as she dissected his answer. If neither of them should be there, why were they? Are we both too weak to stay away?

  Unable to set aside her inquisitive brain, Kate pursued what most nagged at her. “Why do you hate marriage?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, revealing frequent mirth. “I don’t hate it. I just don’t wish to be married.”

  Kate took it upon herself to start serving the food. “Is there a reason?”

  “Someone is awfully curious today.”

  “I figured since you have me here, I may as well use it to my advantage.”

  “And learning about my disinterest for wedded bliss is to your advantage?”

  She handed him a bowl of strawberries. “Why wouldn’t it be? I still don’t understand the purpose of holding me to these clandestine meetings in order for me to reclaim my ring. One must know their opponent and all that.”

  His laughter drew her attention to his amused face. “My sweet nymph, I wish you luck trying to unravel my inner mind. Besides, it is rather simple. You are a beautiful woman. Beautiful women intrigue me.”

  “In that case, I offer my sympathies.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “Given your fascination with women, it is unfortunate your lack of appeal compels you to resort to blackmailing to secure a woman’s company.” Kate tried, but couldn’t contain her laughter—especially when Jackson’s lips compressed into a thin line.

  “I’m sure one day you’ll find someone willing to endure your company without the use of trickery,” she added.

  His silence didn’t last long and when his grimace reformed into a sly grin, Kate knew she’d erred. “Are you implying I’m unappealing to the ladies?”

  “I’m not implying. I’m stating it outright.”

  Her barb must have missed its mark, because he continued to smile as if he held a secret. A flutter of excitement sprang to life deep within her.

  As he pushed his plate of uneaten food to the side and edged closer to her, the sensation built, sending warmth through her body.

  Her eyes met his and she trembled at their intensity, the way they shone as if from deep within.

  He slid even closer, until the heat of his thigh pressed heavy against her leg and his lips settled temptingly close to hers.

  His gaze drifted to her mouth. “Unappealing, you say?”

  “So unappealing,” she managed in return.

  “No lady desires to be in my company? To feel my hand in a caress?”

  Kate shivered when he proceeded to do just that. All along her arm, down to where his fingers reached her gloved hand.

  “And it goes without saying they’d be repulsed by the thought of my skin on theirs.”

  She fought the urge to lick her lips, suddenly parched. Her breath caught when he lifted her hand and with a tug, yanked off her glove. Tossing it aside, his long, rough-tipped fingers tangled with hers.

  A sigh of longing escaped her as he growled, “And they most certainly would never dream of my lips on theirs.”

  No coaxing necessary, her gaze fell to his mouth as it drifted closer. She almost whimpered in torture from his slow descent, sliding her hand up his chest to his shoulder. Feeling as if the ground had fallen away, she was ever so grateful for the solid muscle to anchor her.

  His breath feathered across her lips. “Do you still find me disagreeable? Say the word and I’ll cease.”

  She wanted to smack him for teasing her, especially now, when they both knew she didn’t find him the least bit offensive. Not with the warmth of his body wrapped around her, pulling her in.

  “Answer me, Kate, or I’ll desist. Give me a word either way.”

  She could resist no longer. “Kiss me.”

  Chapter 12

  Jackson might have feigned confidence in his seduction, but with Kate he’d learned it would be ill-advised to bet on her response. Which simply made her plea all the more victorious.

  Not allowing her the chance to debate the consequences of her answer, he surrendered to a hunger that had nothing to do with food, plundering her lips in a kiss so deep he felt it in every inch of his body.

  As much as he hadn’t set out to seduce Kate with his ultimatum, he couldn’t ignore the temptation to lose himself in her. He had no desire to procure a wife but oh, he desired Kate.

  Given how her lips came alive under his, she returned his longing.

  Without relinquishing her mouth, he curved his hand around her hip and pulled her onto his lap. She broke from their kiss as she gasped in surprise.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned starkly. Splaying his hand on the back of her head, he pulled her in for another deep taste of her mouth.

  Perhaps his future couldn’t exist within the borders of England but at the very moment, he was hard-pressed to recall why. Not with Kate’s generous bottom wiggling so enticingly on his thighs.

  Needing more of her, he trailed his mouth down her neck. Quickly working the hooks of her gown, he bared her skin. Now only her chemise kept him from feasting on the straining tips of her breasts.

  Lost in her sweetness, he hazily registered her head falling back as she moaned his name over and over. Oh, hell. The sound of her surrender tightened his already throbbing cock and beckoned him forward to close his lips over one ridged peak.

  Through the thin fabric, he pulled her into his mouth. In response, her rounded buttocks quivered against his erection.

  “Yes, Jackson. Please.”

  He released her breast, murmuring against her damp flesh, “Tell me, Kate. What do you need?”

  His heated blood chilled at her sudden silence. The pause sat thickly between them and he was about to adjust her bodice when her hand, bared from his earlier ministrations, curved along his jaw and drew his head up.

  Her brown eyes were misty but there was no denying the certainty shining through. “I need you.”

  Those three words set off an explosion of longing through him. Ignoring all delicacy, he crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her whimper of approval. He would willingly drown in the taste of her.

  Mindful of their haphazardly private surroundings, Jackson lowered Kate to the blanket, pushing the remains of their lunch to the side.

  He relinquished his hold on her lips and lifted his head, only to become lost in her eyes. “This isn’t why I asked you here.”

  She smiled. “I don’t recall you asking anything.”

  The reminder of his hold over her—retaining possession of her ring—ought to cause him shame. But without it, she wouldn’t be here now, looking at him with pure pleasure shining in those pretty brown orbs.

  Besides, he wasn’t a weak-willed bloke who caved to regrets. He owned his actions. And right now, he possessed a small part of Kate.

  “Still, my aim isn’t to seduce you.”

  Her brow arched. “Who says you could seduce me?”

  His answer was a mocking glance to her lowered bodice as he palmed the gentle rise of her hip. He wanted to dive beneath her skirts and stroke her core, knowing it would be washed in desire for him. All that stopped him was the truth he had revealed about not intending to seduce her.

  Something compelled him toward Kate, far beyond a plot to breach her maidenhead. She deserved more. She deserved a husband. Someone to give her a future.

  Thankfully, he wasn’t enough of a gentleman to deny himself what he could take.

  Focused on her face, his palm moved over her stomach, to her breast. Pinching the soft cotton of her chemise between his fingers, he gave the fabric a t
ug, exposing the perfect globe.

  Her breath hitched as a soft breeze moved over the ridged peak.

  “Still think I couldn’t seduce you if I set my mind to it?”

  He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. If anything could cool her ardor, being reminded of his sway over her would be it. Jackson tensed, waiting for her withdrawal.

  His pulse raced when her hand boldly grasped the back of his head. Meeting his eyes, she firmly admonished, “Do be quiet,” before adding pressure to her hold until he lowered his mouth to her nipple.

  The taste of her was so heady. How easily forgotten, why he couldn’t lift her skirts and sink into her. Though she moaned, “Yes, Jackson,” between breaths, the fact remained in three days’ time, he would no longer be on English soil. He wouldn’t jeopardize his escape. Not even for what was surely guaranteed to be heaven between her legs.

  Jackson forced himself to slow his caresses. “We have a picnic to finish,” he groaned against her breast.

  Her body stilled, no longer writhing to get closer. He lifted his head. Arousal clouded her eyes, yet they lacked their prior faraway expression. Their encounter was over.

  Their time together wasn’t, however, for she owed him another hour. He planned to enforce every minute of the agreement they had struck.

  Their acquaintance might be fated to end but he was determined to discover what about her spurred his emotions.

  Reluctantly, he straightened and released her. “Shall we resume our meal?”

  Her cheeks flushed, she righted her bodice, leaving only the memory of her naked skin. Her blush deepened as she turned so he could fasten her dress. With entirely too much of her alluring, creamy skin still on display, Jackson had to battle to kill his arousal. Otherwise he would toss aside his noble intentions and have her on her back with him buried deep inside her.

  Fortunately for his sanity, common sense came out the victor in the battle against himself.

  Her clothing properly restored, her attention turned to the fruit and cheese on her plate, her gaze hooded. A detail he didn’t care for.

  “Suddenly shy?” he taunted softly, in an effort to flare the fire she tried to smother.

  As he suspected, Kate couldn’t resist his tease. Her beautiful eyes connected with his before she replied with the same wit she’d shown the night they’d met. “Your presence is hardly something to render me timid.”

  It took great effort to remain composed. “Why, then, the downtrodden look?”

  Her gaze never faltered. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not this person, nor do I engage in clandestine meetings where I behave less than properly. Not to mention, I’m practically engaged.”

  His scowl emerged at the mention of her looming marriage. “Then why are you here?”

  “You gave me no choice.”

  “Liar.”

  Her gasp clearly displayed her flare of outrage. “You certainly didn’t. You refuse to return my ring.”

  “I doubt your minor trinket is enough to entice you to throw away years of etiquette bestowed upon you.”

  “Are you saying you gave me a choice in accepting your ultimatum?”

  “You always have a choice. You have the choice to marry your duke. You have a choice to be happy. You have a choice to obey your father.” He leaned closer, unable to maintain his distance. Pleasure ripped through him when she drifted forward, as if she couldn’t remain apart either. His voice remained soft but firm. “And you always have a choice when it comes to me.”

  As silence took over, neither breached the final inches separating them. Despite the ache his muscles suffered as he restrained the urge to reach for her, he refused to budge. Damned if he’d pressure her into anything. She’d made her choices up to this point. From the night in the grove, to the moment they shared right now.

  Her ring might have given her a reason to meet him and an excuse to harbor, but it had always been her decision. He wouldn’t change that now.

  When her eyes shifted away, the sinking feeling in his chest—and what it signaled—worried him. Kate was nothing more than a lark, a way to pass his time with a beautiful woman before he achieved his dream and escaped England. By no means had she touched his heart.

  Had she?

  As he sensed her retreat further, the ache in Jackson’s chest amplified. Did his emotions remain disengaged? He feared they had not.

  Kate represented everything he didn’t want in his future.

  Withdrawing completely seemed the only option.

  He started to gather the remains of their meal. “We should return.”

  From the corner of his vision he noted how quickly she spun to stare at him. He fought the urge to face her, for if he did he’d surely weaken. As lovely as he found the lady, he had no wish to allow her the opportunity to dig herself in further. She had already impacted his life dramatically.

  As nonsensical as it seemed, he feared a certain cursed tree was to blame.

  She remained silent but he felt her regard nonetheless. He couldn’t concentrate on packing up their lunch, his fingers itching to caress her cheek before tangling in her hair. From there he’d pull her to him and learn if the berries she’d consumed remained sweet on her lips.

  Disaster, you fool. Don’t do it.

  Kate was just one beautiful woman in a world full of beautiful women. In a few short days, he’d be on his way to explore each one. He used that rationale to steady his purpose and strengthen his resolve.

  His task complete, he stood and offered her a hand, his eyes trained on a spot just beyond her shoulder. Anything to avoid soaking in her wild beauty. A simple glimpse was all it would take for him to cave. He had a plan. A future. One that didn’t include an almost-engaged society miss. Even if he was insane and decided to throw his plans to the wind, she wasn’t his to have.

  When he realized she hadn’t taken his hand, Jackson had no option but to look at her. Thinking he had prepared for any onslaught of emotions, nothing could have readied him for the sadness he spotted in her eyes.

  “Oh, Kate, don’t,” he pleaded. “We both know this is wrong. I shouldn’t have encouraged this. You shouldn’t have allowed it. You were right all along.”

  His words must have lit a spark in her because one minute she was sitting before him, forlorn, and the next, on her feet with no assistance from him, her glare burning bright.

  “You are just like the rest of them,” she spat as she attempted to push past him.

  He caught her arm, preventing her escape. “Explain.”

  “I’d rather not. I want to go home now.”

  Stubborn nymph. “Kate, talk to me. The rest of who?”

  She stared into the distance but when she started to gnaw at her lower lip, he knew she was about to relent.

  “Your family?”

  “In part.” A short, succinct reply.

  How fitting, the one woman who fascinated him could be so infuriating. “Who else?”

  She huffed a sigh. “Society. Blackthorn. Everyone.” The last spoken so softly, he almost missed it.

  “What do they have to do with me? With us?”

  Her chin raised a fraction. “You are all the same.”

  “How so?”

  “Qualifying it changes nothing. I wish to return home.”

  “I will gladly take you home.”

  Relief slumped her shoulders.

  He hated to further upset her but he had no intention of abandoning their conversation, not without some answers. “After you tell me what I want to know.”

  “I really must remember you lack all gentlemanly qualities,” she retorted under her breath.

  Jackson was certain she’d intended for him to hear every word. Silently, he waited.

  Anoth
er huff passed her lips. “Fine, then.” She faced him fully. “My entire life, expectations have abounded of me. Mother and Father expect me to be the perfect daughter. Always doing what is required, never what I crave. Despite all I accomplish, I still feel as if it isn’t enough.”

  She stalked to the edge of the pavilion and whirled around, her hand splayed over her chest. “Heaven forbid I should ever misstep in society. I’m Lady Katherine, daughter of a duke. It is decorum and ritual above all else. Almost as if I’m not my own person. I don’t dare cause a stir because even if I can’t please Father in what I do, I must never displease him.”

  Her words fell away as the wind swept them through the trees. His chest ached at the pain she couldn’t disguise. It was obvious she didn’t want to reveal any more, but he had to know—

  “What of Blackthorn?”

  Fists clenched, she looked everywhere but in his direction. “What about him?”

  “What does he expect of you?” Jackson yearned to reach out and tuck the strand of hair, caught in the breeze, behind her ear, but daren’t not. Even with a light brush of his fingers against her skin, he’d be lost.

  “That is the worst of it,” she admitted. “Blackthorn is one of the few who generally seems to care about me. Not what our match would mean for his title. Not what my father wishes. And certainly, not how society would view our marriage.”

  If she would have plunged a knife into his chest and twisted, it wouldn’t have had the power to cause the deep-seated pain her words achieved. She cared for Blackthorn. He could see it in the guilt clearly written on her face. The guilt he’d put there by causing her to steal around with him.

  Yet Blackthorn didn’t know Kate, nor did he understand the difference between her, and the public persona of Lady Katherine.

  But I do.

  Such a secret might be the only thing powerful enough to weaken the ache Jackson suffered, of having to accede Blackthorn would one day possess Kate in a way he never would.