Lonesome Bride Read online

  Fortunately, Jed caught her before she could hit the ground. As he suddenly found himself with an armful of fragrant, wriggling woman, Jed's heart hammered in his chest. Caite struggled against him, trying to stand on her own. Every move she made pressed her against him, until he thought he might burst from the exquisite torture of it. For a heart-stopping moment, as she realized she was not going to disentangle herself from his grip so easily, Caite's emerald eyes met Jed's matching ones.

  Realizing as his gaze searched Caite's that he was lost, Jed groaned and crushed his lips to hers. Her mouth had opened in a tiny moue of surprise, and his tongue darted out to explore the heady sweetness within. Without pulling his mouth away, Jed plunged his hands into the fiery depths of auburn coiled atop Caite's head. In a shower of hairpins, her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. Her tresses were like silk against his fingers. Lilac-scented silk. She was irresistible.

  Letting his fingers run again and again through the silk of her hair, Jed kept his mouth slanted against Caite's until he could no longer breathe. When he pulled away to take in a gasp of air still filled with the scent of her, Jed found himself nose to nose with the most bewitching and enticing woman he had ever met.

  Caitleen's gaze was glazed, but she was smiling at him. Running the tip of her tempting pink tongue over her kiss-swollen lips, she said, “My goodness, Mr. Peters, if I'd know what would happen when I fell, I might have jumped."

  Her teasing words were like a dash of cold water on his lust-heated skin. She should have resisted him, slapped his face and called him some more names. She most definitely should not be joking with him. What was he doing kissing her, anyway? This was his father's bride-to-be. Even if that little fact didn't seem to bother her, it sure as heck bothered him.

  Abruptly, Jed pushed her an arm's length away. His gaze raked over her from head to foot, capturing her hair tumbled all about and her skirts half raised to show her knees. His lust turned immediately to self-loathing, coupled with scorn for a woman who would submit to the kisses of a man who wasn't her husband. If he was a scapegrace for giving in to his lust, then what was she? Knitting his brows together and stalking away from her, he ran his fingers through his dark hair in an impatient gesture.

  "What do you think you were doing, allowing me to kiss you like that?” he growled. “Look at you with your hat off again! And your hair straggling all over the place! What kind of morals do you have anyway, Miss O'Neal? Were you raised in a cathouse?"

  At this long and impassioned speech, the longest she had ever heard from him, Caite blanched. Then, two spots of hot color began to rise high upon her cheeks. With trembling fingers, she began to tuck stray strands of hair back into place and to smooth the rumpled material of her clothes. She looked as though she might retch, and Jed's own stomach turned to knots. First, he had created an impossible situation by kissing her, then he had made it worse by yelling at her. He didn't know whether to apologize for the kiss or for the shouting. He decided to do neither.

  While Caite rearranged her clothes and hair, Jed stormed to the back of the wagon. Throwing supplies carelessly onto the ground, he began to set up camp. Tossing a few blankets to one side and a few more on the other, he realized he was in no condition to do the job. He had to get himself under control.

  Jed could not believe a few paltry kisses had affected him so much. Except they weren't very paltry, he admitted to himself. Lord, every step he took pinched and rubbed him in places he definitely did not need any more stimulation. His breath felt thick in his lungs. Caitleen O'Neal had to be a demon—she must be. It wasn't as though he'd never had a woman before! Just not one with silky auburn hair, tantalizing green eyes, and a body that seemed to beg for his caresses.

  "I do not understand,” Caitleen said miserably, quietly. She had finished her ablutions, but had not moved from her spot. “I thought you wanted to kiss me."

  Jed whirled to face her, his own emotions in an uproar. “What difference would it make if I wanted to kiss you or not?"

  Caite flinched but did not retreat. She replied dully, “I thought it would please you if I kissed you back, so I did. I was only trying to please you, Jed."

  Her soft reply and obvious hurt provoked Jed even further. A thought suddenly occurred to him. “How many other men have you ‘pleased’ this way, I'd like to know!"

  Caite met his gaze with the look of a startled doe and flushed. Jed took her blush for admittance of her indiscretions. That explained everything, then. “So you have done this before!"

  "No, I..."

  "Oh, don't deny it, Miss Prissy, I'm-Too-Good-to-Sleep-On-the-Ground, Pennsylvania O'Neal! How many others have you played this with, that's what I want to know!"

  Caite's blush grew deeper until her entire face and neck were crimson with emotion. “I swear to you, Jed, I never—"

  Jed did not wait for her to finish. “I reckon I can see why you decided to sell yourself into marriage with a stranger."

  Caite crumpled against the wagon, breath catching in her throat. She raised unsteady fingers to her still kiss-swollen mouth. Tears welled in her luminous green eyes and began to wend their way down her flushed, perfect cheeks.

  "But you kissed me,” she whispered.

  "You should've stopped me,” Jed snapped.

  Caite's wet eyes met his, and this time she did not look away. She didn't point out to him that he was much stronger than she, and she could have done very little to stop him should he have decided to keep kissing her.

  Jed saw that knowledge in her eyes, however, and cursed himself. He knew he was wrong for berating her, even if the knowledge she was no innocent had strangely upset him. Why should he care if she had given herself to one or a dozen other men? That was not his concern. He was angry with himself for allowing her beauty to tempt him into almost betraying his father. That she had done nothing to overtly encourage his kiss only made him feel worse.

  Pride would not allow him to admit his mistake, however. Also, by shoving her away with words, he could guarantee she wouldn't end up in his arms again. He would have to keep her angry with him for the rest of the trip. She might end up hating him, but he didn't need her affection anyway. She was coming to Heatherfield to marry his father, not him.

  "It's time to get set up,” Jed declared gruffly.

  Caite nodded, tiny shining tears slipping down her cheeks and catching the late afternoon sun like diamonds.

  "I'll get started with the heavy stuff. Why don't you get supper ready?” He turned on his heel and walked away from her.

  * * * *

  Caitleen nodded numbly at Jed's suggestion. Bending slowly, for she felt she might just slump to the ground and stay there, she reached for her hat and placed it back on her head. Jed's words had cut her deeply. How could he accuse her of being a fallen woman? Yes, she had given in to his kiss, and had thoroughly enjoyed it. But they were going to be married. It was not as if she has allowed a complete stranger to place his hands on her.

  She allowed herself, for one brief moment, to recall the sensations Jed's kiss had awakened in her. He tasted like wood smoke and sunlight, and his probing tongue had caused shivers of delight to run up and down her spine like dancing fairies. The few pecks she had shared with Billy Worthe behind the carriage house had not prepared her for a real man's touch.

  Shaking off her recall of Jed's kiss, Caite forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she was walking to where he had thrown the food basket. As she bent to begin unpacking it, however, her knees gave way and she sank to the ground. Ashamed, but unable to help herself, Caite buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Pressing her knuckles against her teeth so hard they nearly bled, she attempted to keep her moans as silent as possible. She did not want Jed to know she was crying.

  He doesn't deserve to see my tears, she told herself fiercely. Even if he had caused them.

  Slowly, by sheer force of will, Caite managed to control herself. Scrubbing her face with the hem of her skirt