The Preacher's Daughter

The Preacher's Daughter

June 2007 Harlequin Historical
ISBN: 0373294514

 

“I enjoyed takin’ you to the harvest dance,” Benjamin told her.  “I was real proud to dance with you.”

“I wasn’t very good at it.”

“I didn’t mean because of your dancin’ ability, I mean because of what a fine woman you are.”

His high opinion, along with the radiating heat from the fire, warmed her through and through.  She draped her shawl over the arm of the chair behind her.  “Just a simple Kansas girl,” she said with a shrug.  “Never been farther than Topeka, and I don’t know beans about much other than gardening or keeping house.”

“Now that’s not so.”

“No?  What else do I know about?”

“Croquet and paper dolls and playin’ the piano.  Flynn said you help him with his mathematic assignments.  You kiss bumps and bruises.  You’re wise and honest.  And I’ve personally seen you talkin’ with a cat.”

She laughed.  “Yes, of course.  Cat language is one of my gifts.”

“Just one of many,” he added.  “This is probably the best hot cocoa I’ve ever tasted.”

“It isn’t.”

“It is.”  He paused, ducking his chin as though he was embarrassed.  “I bought somethin’ for you….” 

Her heart lifted in expectancy.  Gifts were unheard of in her upbringing.  “What is it?”  

“You might think--it’s silly.”

“I won’t.  What is it?”

“It’s not much really.  I was just thinkin’ of you when I was in the mercantile.”  He got up and went to the desk, where he opened the top drawer and took out something flat and rectangular.  He carried it back and sat across from her, extending the object.

“What is it?”

“Look.”

She accepted it and read the blue wrapper.  Chocolate.  Made in Switzerland.

“Do you like chocolate?”

“I think so.  I’ve never had one of these.  I use cocoa powder to bake.”

“Well, unwrap it and try it.”

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

She carefully peeled away the wrapper and tin foil, exposing a solid bar of chocolate.

“Go ahead.  Break off a piece,” Benjamin said.

She did, then placed the bite in her mouth and let it melt on her tongue.  Lorabeth closed her eyes.  Chocolate was a hundred times better than jelly beans!  It melted into a creamy-textured delight.

After swallowing she ran her tongue over her teeth and the roof of her mouth.  “Imagine,” she said.  “The people in Switzerland must try this every day while they’re making it.”

“Gonna share?”

She extended the wrapper for him to break off his own piece.  He chewed slowly. 

“Could be they do,” he replied.  “In between bites of cheese, o’ course.”

They laughed together over that.

Lorabeth put another bite of chocolate in her mouth.  This time she chewed.

Benjamin reached between them to touch his thumb to the corner of her lips.  A twig in the fire snapped and a log hissed.  She met his eyes with a yearning desire to have more and know more…to have it all.  “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Seems I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, Lorabeth.”

“What is it you think of?”

“Your smile.  Your shiny hair.”  His gaze caressed her lips and hair.  “About kissin’ you.”

“I think about that, too,” she admitted.

He leaned toward her and she met him halfway.  They both moved in closer, and Lorabeth rested her fingertips on the front of his shirt.

With their lips nearly touching, she said, “Sometimes I think about you so much, nothing else seems real.”

Their lips met and Lorabeth noticed the warmth, tasted the chocolate.  His kiss was too gentle and unsettling for the hunger that quivered inside.  She hooked her arm around his neck, and he responded by folding her into a hard embrace.

She loved the feel of her breasts crushed to his hard chest, his strong arms banding her.  She’d never been this close to another person, never felt loveable or desirable or wanted.  Benjamin’s embrace awakened her body to the hard planes of his chest and the wild beat of his pulse under her palm.  She wanted to hold onto his solid presence, press herself into his heart and make herself indispensable.

He tore his mouth from hers to trail fiery kisses across her chin and down her neck.  Lorabeth let her head fall back while shivers of pleasure washed across her shoulders and encompassed her whole being.  If she’d been standing she would have collapsed in a heap.

Benjamin brought his lips back to hers, and she eagerly framed his face in both hands.  He leaned over her, and this time their bodies lowered from where they sat until they lay side by side, Benjamin’s welcome weight pressing against her.

Giving herself over to yearning, she threaded her fingers into his hair.  Lorabeth cherished the perfection of being in his arms, the tender way he held her.  Her senses were more acute than they’d ever been.  She smelled the soap he’d used that day, felt the heat of the fire along her side, saw the golden glint on his hair and lashes.

All her yearning magical dreams were coming true.  Her secret yearnings were being fulfilled one by one, and it was even better than she’d hoped.  Benjamin was the man she’d prayed for.

His thick silken hair in her hands was a sensual thrill.  Lorabeth trailed her fingers through it, along his neck, to his jaw.

She wanted to touch more of him.  She caressed his broad shoulders through the crisp fabric of his shirt, loving the solid feel of muscle beneath smooth warm flesh.  He was so much broader and stronger than she, creating a perfect foil to her softness.  She’d never imagined that intimacy could feel so good and so right.  She loved the feel of his lips on hers, the weight of his body along her side.

Benjamin drew his mouth away and dropped his head into the crook of her neck.  His breath fanned her skin there, sending shudders through her body.

“I prayed for you,” she whispered. 

Ben raised his head.  “What did I need prayer for?”

“No, I mean I prayed for you,” she said again.  “For God to send you to me.”

He wasn’t so sure he was God’s answer to anyone’s prayers.  The way he felt toward her right now wasn’t exactly holy.  He’d wanted to kiss her again, had craved a taste of her, but it wasn’t enough.  The feelings he had were taking on new proportions.

She was a preacher’s daughter, raised in a strict environment and protected her entire life.  Until now.  Until she’d met him.

A pulse of concern beat in his heart.  Her father had turned Lorabeth’s safety over to them, and Ben didn’t want to give in to becoming the kind of man he’d vowed never to be.  How could he protect her when he was the one she needed protection from?  All he wanted right now was to touch her all over, take her up to his bed and make her his.

Heat engulfed him, and he moved away, taking her hand and helping her to a sitting position.

“I should take you home,” he managed.

She straightened her clothing and hair.  “I know all about self-control,” she told him.  “My whole life has been about self-control.  “I’ve had my fill of holding back and living up to other people’s expectations.”

He glanced at her in surprise.  Her lips were pink and swollen from their kisses, and he wanted to capture her mouth again, but he looked away instead.  He knew all about self-control, too.  He was a master at it.

He’d worn belligerence like armor as a youth, hadn’t trusted a soul except Ellie until Caleb had come into their lives.  Impotent rage had been his constant companion until he’d had to let it go or lose his mind.  He may be jaded and pragmatic, but he wasn’t living an illusion or pretending to be anything other than who and what he was.  And what he was scared the hell out him most of the time.  More so now than ever because he’d learned how weak he really was.  Lorabeth had revealed his weakness.  And it was her.

He wanted her.

But she was so unaffected and eager and beautiful that she scared him.  She was a butterfly emerged from a cocoon and riding the winds of waking up to a whole new world that had opened before her.  She was bright and eager and trusting. 

Too trusting.