Jennifer Wilde by Love Me Marietta

Author:Love Me, Marietta [Marietta, Love Me,]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

He held his hand clamped firmly over my mouth while shock and dismay and a wild surge of conflicting emotions swept over me. After a moment, very cautiously, he removed his hand and took hold of my shoulders and turned me around so that I faced him. He gripped my upper arms, supporting me, and I would surely have crumpled to the ground if those strong hands hadn't held me. In the hazy darkness I could barely see his face, merry eyes, a slightly twisted nose, the wide, full mouth grinning saucily as though this were a delightful prank,

"Are you goint to faint?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," I whispered.

"Go ahead. I'll hold you. I'm terrific with swooning females."

"I'm not going to faint."

"Pity," he said.

"How—"

"You've got dozens and dozens of questions," he interrupted. "It's only natural. I'll answer 'em all eventually, when we've time, but for now all you need to know is I'm here, and ten of my best men are at this moment loading every ship in the harbor with explosives, plantin' explosives in the warehouses, too. In half an hour we're going to have a terrific fireworks display."

"Jeremy—it—it's really you."

"It's me, lass, in the flesh."

"I feel like I'm dreaming. It can't be true—"

"It's true," he assured me, his voice tender now, oh so tender. "You're not dreaming, Marietta."

I started to cry, and he folded me to him and held me close, gently stroking my head, murmuring soft words that were mere music, making no sense, making my heart turn over. J wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and held onto him with all my might, afraid he would dematerialize and I would wake up and discover it had all been an illusion. He was wearing a buckskin jacket. I could feel the strong, soft leather under my fingers, could feel the fringe swaying as he rocked me slightly, his right arm a band of steel holding me, drawing me closer as his left hand continued to smooth my hair, I felt his warmth, his strength, that tall, muscular body supple and relaxed. I cried for several moments, my face buried in the curve of his shoulders, and after a while I finally looked up and he smiled and brushed my tears away.

"I—I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to give way like that."

"It was my pleasure, lass. Weak, defenseless females are my specialty."

"I'm not weak."

"I know. You're strong, one of the strongest, bravest women in all the world."

"Don't patronize me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, lass. Are you ail right now? Are you going to fold up and sink to the ground?"

"Just let me hold on a little longer."

He nodded, and I clung to him and closed my eyes and let the conflicting emotions swirl, reveling in the luxury of his strength, those protective arms enfolding me. The boughs creaked quietly. The leaves rustled. Jeremy Bond smelled of leather and sweat and dirt, and it was the sweetest smell on earth, a pungent, virile musk that filled me with euphoria.

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