Return to Glory (Hqn) by Sara Arden Page B

voice.
    “Bets?”
    She realized she’d pulled the pillow in front of her. How stupid was that after her brazen display, stripping for him twice, and he’d already been inside her? She couldn’t hide, but she wanted to.
    Betsy suddenly understood that about Jack, too. Why he wanted to hide things from her in the dark, why he didn’t want her to see.
    For the millionth time, she realized that she was in way over her head.
    “You know that I didn’t mean it that way.”
    “I know,” she said, unable to look at him.
    “Then why are you hiding from me?” He tilted her chin up gently.
    Her eyes were heavy, and she didn’t want to meet his eyes, but just as she wouldn’t let him turn away, he wouldn’t grant her that mercy, either.
    “You stripped for me in the daylight and now you want to hide in the shadows?”
    “You want the light off, so why can’t I hide, too?” She swallowed hard.
    “Because you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He tugged the pillow out of her grasp slowly and pushed it to the side. “Art was meant to be displayed and admired, not hidden.”
    From anyone else, it would have sounded like a line. Something whispered hurriedly to assuage her fear so he could still get a piece, but not Jack. From him, it was earnest poetry.
    “Hasn’t anyone told you how perfect you are?” The incredulity in his voice gave her pause.
    “No one is perfect.”
    “You are.”
    She didn’t know what to say, or what to do. No one had ever told her those things, and for them to come from him...
    He leaned down and kissed the inside of her knee, his breath warm and his lips like a brand. “Touching you here—” he kissed her again “—makes you shiver and squirm in the best way.” Jack didn’t stop there but moved higher up her thigh. “And right here is all strength and feminine softness.” He clasped her hips. “Perfect for holding you right where I want you. Dangerous curves I could ride all night.”
    She trembled at his description and when he moved to the gentle curve of her belly, she wanted to push him away, but he would have none of it. He burrowed against her, his short hair tickling her until she writhed and giggled.
    “So soft and sweet,” he praised. “ This is the embodiment of femininity. You know how I was talking about art? You see hard-bodied men on display, but not women. Women’s bodies are meant to be curvy and plush. If I wanted ripped abs, I’d be here with Caleb.”
    Jack rose above her and filled his hand with her breast. “And dear sweet hell, Betsy. Your breasts have always been the stuff of fantasies. I can’t decide if I want to touch them, taste them or just look at them.”
    He dipped his head and did all three. He took the bud of her nipple into his hot mouth, and every pull of his mouth tugged at something deep inside her.
    “I’d keep you naked all the time. Not just for this, but so I could just watch you. The way you move, the fluid grace in every action. It’s not practical, but I’d love to watch you bake those cookies naked.”
    His words caused heat to bloom everywhere. She hadn’t known he thought of her so often or in so much detail. Or the things he wanted to do with her cookies.
    She found herself agreeing. “I’ll do that for you, Jack.” She’d do anything for him.
    “I’ve been thinking about how you always smell like vanilla sugar. All through dinner that I couldn’t taste, I remembered your mouth, between your thighs, and I wanted it again.”
    His appraisal had been so intense she’d thought it anger, but that wasn’t rage.
    It had been need.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    A LL THE THINGS Jack had never thought he’d be telling her poured from him in a tidal wave. It was so foreign and wrong to him that Betsy didn’t know her own appeal.
    It humbled him. All this time he’d believed she knew her own worth and how desirable she was. She’d been as afraid as he was, but she hadn’t shown it until now. Even through it all, she