Fiery Tales: Undone Part 22

She squeezed the arms of the chair as Simon tossed the first knife. A perfect hit. The crowd cheered. She breathed again, not realizing she'd been holding her breath.

Simon picked up the second knife and paused, weighing it in his hand for a moment. She bit her lip. With a quick movement of his sculpted arm, the knife sliced through the air and hit the target dead center.

She sighed as the spectators shouted boisterously. One more.

Simon picked up the final knife.

Old Benjamin spoke up, loudly proclaiming, "Captain, sink this knife into its mark; then you can focus on a different target. One with ruby lips." Laughter ensued. She glared up at Benjamin. She didn't need his fool-headed comments to grate on her frayed nerves.

Simon gave Benjamin a nod, but his face remained impa.s.sive. He turned and positioned his arm. A silence fell upon the square. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back.

She couldn't look, yet she was too afraid to turn away. He tossed the knife. She closed her eyes.

Applause and cheers erupted. She snapped her eyes open. There, piercing the center circle was Simon's knife. She was so relieved she felt weak. But her relief was short-lived. She wouldn't have to kiss Anton, but now she would have to face Simon.

The men approached him, including Anton, to offer their congratulations.

"Captain!" Old Benjamin bellowed beside her. "Please, step forward and claim your prize!"

Her heart leaped to her throat. The crowd parted. Jules and Sabine cleared the stage as Simon stepped up onto it. Still seated, she looked up at him.

He extended a hand to her, a slight smile tilting his sensuous mouth. The ma.s.s erupted anew. She placed her hand in his and forced her legs to stand.

Looking into the depths of his eyes, she was unsure what to do. If kissing her was something he was forcing himself to do, then she didn't wish the touch of his lips either. Liar! cried the foolish voice inside her. The same one that had convinced her to reread the book of love sonnets more times than she should have.

"You do not have to do this," she whispered.

Somehow, he heard her over the loud spectators. His dark brows drew together. "I've just won a contest, and your kiss, chere, is my prize. Why would I not claim it?"

"Because we both know how you feel about me."

"Make her swoon, Captain!" Shouts from the rambunctious crowd pierced their conversation. She turned to the large group, but Simon slipped his fingers under her chin and turned her face to his.

"How do I feel about you?"

"You are...repulsed." There, she'd said it. And while she looked him directly in the eye.

He looked stunned for a moment before anger flared in the depths of his eyes. "How can you think-"

"A kiss! A kiss!" they chanted, drowning him out. Anxiously, she looked out at the sea of shouting faces.

Once more, he turned her face to his, this time capturing it between his strong hands. "Don't look at them."

"Show her a commoner can kiss as good as any Aristo, Captain!" There was laughter again. She stiffened.

"Ignore them," he said. "Let them fade from your mind. It's just you and me here. No one else. I'm going to kiss you. Show you exactly how I feel about you." He caressed his thumb across her cheek, sending tiny tingles racing down her spine. She watched him lower his mouth, then let her eyes flutter shut.

At the first touch of his lips, exhilaration shot through her system. She braced her hands against his solid chest. His taste, his scent, were a seductive combination. The last vague sounds from the jovial ma.s.s of whistles and applause faded into the distance.

She returned his kiss with zeal. Starved for more. Battling with the overwhelming urge to pull his s.h.i.+rt free, slip her hands beneath, and stroke his warm skin.

And those gorgeous ripples on his sculpted abdomen.

He thrust his tongue past her parted lips. Her s.e.x clenched. Her nipples pressed hard against her chemise, just as tantalized and tormented by this heat he alone inspired. There was so much of this magic he created she had still to know...

He broke the kiss abruptly. "Dieu. We must stop..." At the loss of his mouth, she snapped her eyes open. Gazing up at him, she fought to catch her breath. The look in his eyes and his accelerated breathing were telling. He was just as affected.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning to face the exuberant group. They cheered louder. Forming a smile, he took her hand, bowed low over it, and kissed it. "Thank you, mademoiselle," he exclaimed for all to hear. "Benjamin!"

"Yes, Captain." The old fool still grinned.

"Does this celebration have any music?"

"Of course!" Benjamin motioned to the fiddlers.

The instant the music started, the crowd began to disperse toward the lively melody.

Simon helped her down from the stage, then stalked away in the opposite direction, pulling her along with him.

"Simon, what are you doing? Where are we going?"

Without breaking his stride, he said, "We need to talk."

"About what?"

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. She almost collided into him.

"About what?" he repeated. "About how hard you make me with just one kiss. h.e.l.l, just seeing you standing there breathing drives me wild. About how I fight to keep myself from you, all the while wanting you day and night. And about the b.l.o.o.d.y ridiculous notion you have in your head that I could ever be repulsed by you." He resumed his brisk pace.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

Chapter Seventeen.

Angelica watched Simon close the schoolhouse door, m.u.f.fling the merry sounds from the festival outside. His large masculine form made the one-room school feel smaller. And deliciously warmer than usual.

He stalked over to her desk, raking his hand through his hair. "Angelica, I may have been staying away from you, avoiding you, but only because I am trying to do what is right, and that is to keep my desire for you in check. Jesus-Christ, when I look at you, the last thing I could ever feel is repulsion." His eyes still reflected the heated effects of their kiss. A warm current rushed through her heart.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "My actions have given you the wrong impression. Forgive me, for I do not know how to be near you and not touch you," he said softly. "You are difficult to resist for any man... For me."

A lump formed in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes.

"The knowledge of your past, I a.s.sure you, makes no difference to me. It isn't who you are. It is something that happened to you."

She averted her gaze and quickly swiped away an errant tear. Acceptance. Understanding. Compa.s.sion. He was giving her all three, just as she had believed he would. She wanted to throw her arms around him and declare her love for him right there and then. He knew everything, and yet he still saw her as a woman, complete and whole. He hadn't felt disgust. He still desired her. Like a balm, his words soothed the gaping wound she'd had deep in her soul.

"I knew the men would select you...and though I've been trying to restrain my desire for you, I'll be d.a.m.ned if I was going to sit back and allow Anton or any of them to kiss you."

Restrain his desire? That was the last thing she wanted. In fact, she wanted him to give of himself freely. Heart and body.

She clasped her hands before her to keep from reaching out and touching him. He was devastating and distracting, and she needed to think. To decide what exactly to do with this revelation. And the heavenly opportunity it offered.

He fixed her with his regard, his look sincere. "I wish to be clear, so there is no misunderstanding between us. What you told me that night engaged my wrath, but not at you. It was directed at your stepfather, and at myself for my behavior toward you-"

"Stop!" She marched up to him, pointed at her chair, and in her strictest teacher's voice said, "Sit down, Simon."

His brows shot up at her command.

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to comply, but then, much to her relief, he lowered his strong body onto the chair. There was a touch of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes. Clearly, no one had ever commanded this dominant male before.

"Good. Now you shall listen to me, for there are a few things I wish to tell you. Firstly, you will never mention my stepfather again. He'll not be discussed or given any more importance." She tried not to shudder at the mention of the loathsome creature.

Simon looked as though he wanted to debate the matter. But then he ceded with a slight nod of his head.

She pressed on. "Secondly, you were the one who took me from a way of life in which I was barely alive and forced me to acknowledge my past. And I am grateful. I am glad to be unburdened of a secret I carried for far too long. As far as your 'behavior toward me' is concerned, the physical intimacies we've shared have been more heaven than I expected to know on this side of the stars. You showed me how incredible it can be between a man and a woman."

Between us.

She turned and stepped away. There were more words she wanted to say, some involving soft sentiments he wasn't ready to hear, some involving physical yearnings, words her old self would have s.h.i.+ed away from, unable to grasp for such bliss.

But she was different now.

She faced him again. "I have a proposal for you."

He c.o.c.ked a brow. "A proposal?"

Say it. Just utter the words. She knew exactly what she wanted to say. She would make him a sumptuous offer.

"Yes... If you wish to blame yourself unnecessarily, then I have a way in which you can redeem yourself."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, his curiosity clearly piqued. "Oh? And in what way might I redeem myself?"

She gazed at his handsome face, trying not to be distracted by his sensual, most kissable mouth. If she said it all at once, it would be easiest. It wasn't the sort of thing she voiced every day. "You could...provide more of the kind of carnal pleasures you've already shown me."

He froze. Obviously astounded.

Then shot to his feet. "Merde!"

He stalked around the chair, putting it between them. "I've been fighting back my desire for you, and you propose I redeem myself by becoming your lover?"

She gave a nod. "On a frequent basis," she added, in case the point was lost on him.

His mouth fell agape before he clamped it shut and began to pace. "Do not do this. Don't expect that I can be the strong one for both of us on this..."

She tried not to smile, despite herself. He looked incredibly adorable in his fl.u.s.tered state. She was willing to wager that few people had ever managed to rattle him so.

"I'm a grown woman. I am quite capable of making my own decisions. I don't need you to be a self-appointed protector of my virtue."

He arrested his steps. Jabbing his index finger into his chest, he said, "I have been trying not to complicate your life."

"Good, because what I propose is quite simple."

"It is not simple!" He rested his hands on his hips and let out a breath. In a more rational voice, he said, "Do you understand what it is I do with women? I do not woo them. Or marry them. I am simply there to..."

"Bed them?" she added for him when he hesitated.

"Yes! s.e.x. For mutual pleasure. I'm not Domenico or Jules. A s.e.xual relations.h.i.+p with me will not result in marriage, for many reasons, chere, not the least of which is our different social cla.s.s."

Thanks to her circ.u.mstances, her past, she'd come to believe that the prospect of marriage had been permanently removed from her future. Her days were to have been spent in a convent. Alone. She never imagined meeting a man and falling in love. But now she had.

She wanted a lifetime with him. There was no reason her station of birth, void of any meaning for her, should pose an obstacle.

"What I seek is to grab hold of whatever bliss life offers me. You taught me that." She held back her tender feelings. Given his state, hearing such sentiment would no doubt send him bolting from the schoolhouse. She needed time with him, wanted some uninterrupted special time before she would voice the words that burned inside her.

Her plan was simple. If she claimed his body as her own, perhaps, just perhaps, his heart would follow close behind. He was worth the effort. And the risk to her heart.

Whatever the outcome, she was determined to seize the chance to be with the man she loved. If in the end everything crumbled, she would at the very least have the memory of the time she had with him to cherish.

He sat down on the edge of the desk and quietly studied her with those knee-weakening blue eyes.

Smiling, she walked up to him and caressed his cheek, then rested her palm against it. There was undeniable interest in his eyes, no matter how much he foolishly protested.

She leaned into him. "Don't hold back your desire, Simon. There is no reason to. It is not what either of us wants." She brushed her lips along his jaw, to his neck. Drawing on his warm skin, she gave him a gentle suck, delighting in his soft groan. His heart rate quickened beneath her lips. But the stubborn man pulled back, despite the heated effect she had on him.

Reaching up, he removed her hand from his cheek and held it between his warm palms, lightly caressing it with his thumb.

"I must return to France," he said, his eyes full of regret.

Her stomach dropped. "When?"

"In a few weeks, a month at the most."

"I see." She tried to hide her overwhelming disappointment. And her fear. She'd only have a few weeks to forge something permanent with him.

"I don't know how long I'll be there before I can return."

If he was to leave soon, then she was even more determined not to lose out on this opportunity.

"Simon, you have said a fire burns between us. Why not bask in it until it's completely extinguished. Or until you leave-whichever comes first."

He wouldn't leave unaffected.

Without a word, he hauled her up against him, and crushed his mouth to hers, taking her by surprise. Every nerve ending sparked to life. He drove his tongue into her mouth, muting her moan. Her pulse raced. Liquid heat coursed through her veins. And the bud between her legs began to throb, hard and heavy, along with her heart. She wove her fingers into his soft, cool hair, reveling in the delicious desire rus.h.i.+ng through her. His hands gripped her bottom and ground her against the hard bulge in his breeches, applying the most perfect pressure on her sensitive c.l.i.t. Practically buckled her knees.