More than Passion by Jomarie Degioia Read Free Book Online Page B

way, Kane. It’s Rebecca yer wantin’.”
    He blew out a breath. “Ah, Emmy, you’re right. But she doesn’t want me.”
    “What are ya, blind? The girl’s mad for ya.”
    Geoffrey shook his head. “No. I asked her to marry me and she turned me down flat. Twice.”
    Emmy arched an eyebrow at that. “Did she, now? Well, if I know Rebecca, she thinks she’s doin’ what’s best for ya.”
    Geoffrey looked at her, puzzled. “Why?”
    “The girl never thinks of herself,” she added.
    She left him then, clearing the remaining tables.
    Geoffrey sat drinking his ale, his mind on Becca. Her rejection stung. She’d told him she didn’t wish to be a burden. A burden? He’d never met anyone as giving. She gave of herself completely, body and soul. He thought back to her argument with her father. She’d said she’d never marry someone she didn’t love. That galled him. She didn’t love him? Well, she damned well better learn to love him!
    He shook his head and drained his tankard. He motioned for Emmy. He hadn’t seen Becca for a while and assumed she’d gone upstairs to bed. Emmy poured him another ale, clicking her tongue at him as she shook her head. He glared at her, warning her to keep silent. With a shrug of her shoulders, she left him blessedly alone.
    * * * *
    Becca tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about Geoffrey and his proposal. She wished that she could have said yes. She cared very much for him. But she didn’t want to be a burden to him. So she’d have to let him leave, let him go back to the life he had in London or wherever.
    She could have loved him. She stroked her belly. There won’t be a child, no matter what Geoffrey said. God wouldn’t be so cruel as to make her bear a constant reminder of her shame. Or her weakness.
    She began to drift off to sleep when a strange sound woke her. She sat up in her bed, cocking her head to the side. It came again, a faint thump from out in the hall.
    “Becca?” came a hoarse whisper.
    It’s him! She scrambled out of bed and opened her door a crack. He stood, or rather leaned, in the hallway. He thumped on the door to the room next to hers. Thank God that room was unoccupied tonight.
    She opened her door. “Geoffrey, what are you doing?” she whispered.
    He turned then, a crooked smile on his face. “Becca.”
    She took in his appearance. His clothes were rumpled, his face red. She could smell the ale on his breath and wrinkled her nose. “You’re sotted!”
    “Just had me a bit of ale,” he said, still smiling.
    “Go to bed,” she said, her hands on her hips.
    His gaze wandered over her form, and she felt naked despite the nightgown she wore. “All right, love,” he drawled, making a move to step into her room.
    She placed her hand on his chest, halting his progress. “Your bed, Geoffrey.”
    His smile faded then, a look of pain on his features. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
    “What is it?”
    He groaned, a mournful sound. “I need you, Becca. Please.”
    She couldn’t refuse him her help. She managed to get him into his room and sat him on the edge of his bed. His eyes were open now and he regarded her solemnly. She removed his coat and folded it neatly over the chair. She walked back to him and stood between his outstretched legs. She unbuttoned his shirt and had just removed it when he grabbed her by the waist. She sucked in a breath, surprised he could move so quickly. He pulled her to him and closed his mouth over one nipple. His mouth was hot and moist through the thin cloth and her body clenched. With a ragged breath, she pulled out of his grasp.
    She turned away from him and straddled his leg. She held his booted heel and pulled to no avail. He ran his hands over her bottom, gently kneading her flesh.
    She fought the feelings he aroused. “You know, I could use your assistance.”
    He removed his magic hands and braced them on the bed. He placed his other foot on her