"You're soaking wet," she blurted out. "Have you been walking in the storm, you daft man?"
"I had to go to the stables to help quiet the horses."
"Your hair turns to curl when it's wet," she added. "You must have hated that when you were a child."
"I hated it so much I wouldn't share my toys," he drawled out.
His gaze turned to her chest. He noticed her hardened nipples brushing against the thin fabric of her gown. It took a supreme act of discipline not to touch her. His control was close to snapping, and even a simple goodnight kiss would make him forget his good intentions.
Another bolt of lightning lit up the room, followed by an ear-piercing explosion of thunder. Caine was off the bed and standing by the window before Jade had kicked the covers away.
"That surely hit something," Caine announced. "I don't think I've ever seen a storm as fierce as this one."
He peered into the darkness, looking for signs of a budding fire. Then he felt Jade take hold of his hand. He hid his concern when he turned to look down at her.
"It will wear out very soon," she promised. She nodded when he looked so surprised, squeezed his hand to reassure him, and added, "You'll see."
He couldn't believe she was actually trying to comfort him. Since she looked so sincere, he didn't dare laugh. He didn't want to hurt her tender feelings, and if she felt the need to soothe him, he'd let her.
"Uncle use to tell me the angels were brawling whenever there was a thunderstorm," she said. "He made it sound as if they were having quite a party."
"And did you believe your uncle?" he asked, a smile in his voice.
"No."
He did laugh then, a full booming sound that reminded her of thunder.
"I have grown to appreciate your honesty, Jade. I find it most appealing."
She didn't look as though she wanted to hear that opinion. She let go of his hand and shook her head again. "Everything's always black and white to you, isn't it? There's never any room for deviations, is there? I tried to believe my uncle, but I knew he was lying to soothe my fear. Sometimes, Caine, a lie is all for the good. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
He stared down at her for a long minute. "Give me another example, Jade." His voice was whisper soft. "Have you ever lied to me?"
She slowly nodded.
Several heartbeats later, Caine asked, "And what was this lie?"
She didn't answer him soon enough to please him. His hands were suddenly on her shoulders and he forcefully turned her to face him. Then he nudged her chin up, demanding she look at him. "Explain this lie!" he demanded.
The look in his eyes chilled her. She couldn't find any warmth there. The color had turned the gray of winter mornings.
"You cannot abide a lie then, no matter what the reason?"
"Tell me what the lie was," he instructed again.
"I don't really dislike you."
"What?" he asked, looking incredulous.
"I said, I don't really dislike you."
"That's it? That's the lie you…"
"Yes."
She could feel the tension ebb from his grasp. "Well, hell, Jade, I thought it was something serious."
"like what?" she demanded in a raised voice.
"Like perhaps you were married," he answered in a near shout of his own. "I already know you don't dislike me," he added in a softer tone of voice.
"You're impossible," she cried out. "Unbending, too. If I had other lies, I certainly wouldn't admit them
to you now. You get too cranky."
"Jade?"
"Yes?"
"What other lies?"
"I thought about telling you I was married," she said then. "But I'm not any good at fabrications and
I didn't think you'd believe me."
"Why would you want me to believe you were married?"
He was rubbing her shoulders now in an absentminded fashion. "Because," she rushed out. "In the
tavern, well, you were looking at me very like a tiger planning his next meal, and I thought that if you believed I was married… or recently widowed, then I'd gain your compassion."
"So you wanted my compassion and not my lust?"
She nodded. "You must admit that we are attracted to each other. I've never wanted a man to touch
me the way I want you to… touch me."
"That's nice to know, my love."
"Oh, you already know it," she whispered. "Quit looking so pleased with yourself. It was bound to
happen sooner or later."
"What was bound to happen?"
"I was bound to find someone I wanted to get a little closer to," she explained.
"I'm glad it happened with me," he admitted.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against him. "Jade, do you want me to touch you now?"
She struggled out of his arms and took a step back. "It doesn't matter if I want you to touch me or not, Caine. You're my protector. You have to leave me alone."
She suddenly found herself pulled back up against his chest, his thighs, his hard arousal. Her flimsy nightgown proved scanty protection against his body, his incredible heat. "It doesn't work that way,
Jade."
"Why not?"
"I want you."
The huskiness in his voice was her undoing. She knew she should be appalled by her own reaction to him. Yet she actually wanted to melt in his arms. The urge to let him touch her was such a sweet torment. Lord, she was confused. She'd never, ever permitted anyone to get this close to her. She'd always protected herself against involvements of any kind, having learned early in life that loving someone caused more pain than joy. Even Nathan had deserted her. She'd become so vulnerable then. Yes, only a fool would let a man like Caine close… only a fool.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Neither Jade nor Caine was aware of the weather now. They were too consumed by the heat flowing between them.
They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed an eternity.
And in the end, it was inevitable. When Caine slowly lowered his head toward her, she leaned up to meet him halfway.
His mouth took absolute possession. He was as ravenous for her as she was for him. She welcomed his tongue, rubbed against it with her own. Her whimper of longing and acceptance blended with his raw growl of need.
The kiss was openly carnal. Caine was a lusty man whose hunger wouldn't be easily appeased. He wouldn't let her retreat or give half measure. Jade didn't want to draw back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers through his soft curly hair, and clung to him. She never wanted to let go.
When he finally pulled away, she felt as though he'd taken her heart. She cuddled up against him quite brazenly, resting the side of her face against his warm chest. The mat of hair tickled her nose but she liked the sensation too much to move away. His scent, so wonderfully masculine, reminded her of