More than Passion Read online

  With an armful of clean towels, she moved from room to room. She paused in front of Geoffrey’s door. She knew this was so, for she’d been in her father’s office the night before. She smiled. While straightening his desk, she just happened to see the registry.

  She placed a hand on the door, trailing a finger over the wood. He’d affected her last night like no man ever had before. His beautiful eyes, his dazzling smile, had made her heart beat faster. The stubble on his finely chiseled cheeks only added to his appeal. Lord, he was handsome. Letting out a sigh, she entered the room.

  The chamber was dark as the draperies were still drawn. She placed the towels on the washstand and crossed to the window. She pulled aside the drapes and turned, stunned at the sight before her. There on the bed, Geoffrey lay sleeping. The covers were down around his waist and he wore no night shirt. His broad chest and strong arms were dark against the white sheets. She let her gaze wander over him, noting the thick lock of honey-colored hair that fell across his brow. She quietly crossed to him. She looked down at his face, striking even in repose. She gently brushed the lock of hair back from his forehead. So soft. Would the hair covering his chest feel just as soft? She gently brushed her fingers over his chest.

  Suddenly, his hand gripped hers and her gaze flew to Geoffrey’s face. She found him staring at her, his brilliant blue eyes boring into hers. She gasped, a soft sound in the silence of the room.

  “Geoffrey ….”

  “Becca?”

  He lifted his head off the pillow, a question in his eyes. Her gaze fell to the firm, masculine curve of his mouth. She bent her head to meet him halfway.

  “Becca,” he whispered again, his mouth a breath away.

  Their lips brushed ever so lightly, the fleeting kiss firing her senses. He began to apply more pressure and she pulled back, shocked by her actions. She fled the room, her cheeks flaming and her lips on fire.

  Out in the hall once more, Rebecca leaned against the wall and tried to collect herself. Her heart beat furiously and her breath came fast. She brought her fingers up to her mouth and lightly touched her lips, still tingling from Geoffrey’s kiss. Breathing in deeply, she tried to slow her racing pulse. She hurried to the safety of her room, not wanting to run into him. She paused at her door, glancing down the hall toward his room. She was safe. From him or from herself, she wouldn’t ponder.

  She straightened her shoulders and entered her room, closing the door softly behind her. Almost before she was aware, it was time for the nooning meal.

  “Girl!” her father bellowed from belowstairs in his usual manner.

  She came out of her room to stand at the top of the stairs. “Yes, Father?”

  “Get down here. We got a full dining room.”

  She nodded, sighing to herself. Only that morning she’d thought to help Emmy, hoping to catch a glimpse of Geoffrey. Now after shaming herself in his room, she knew she’d simply perish if she saw him. She slowly descended the stairs and entered the dining room.

  Emmy was busy carrying out the platters of food. The fare was light: cold chicken, crusty bread, slabs of hard cheese. She spied Rebecca and motioned for her to bring the bread baskets to the tables. Rebecca stacked a few full baskets in her arms and moved among the tables. Halfway through her task, she spotted Geoffrey sitting alone. Their eyes met briefly and she looked away. He watched her with a smile teasing his lips, apparently amused at the flush she was certain covered her cheeks. He motioned to her, requesting some bread. She walked toward him resolutely and stopped in front of his table.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Kane,” she said stiffly.

  “‘Mr. Kane’?” he teased. “Why so formal? I’d think that after this morning ….”

  Her gasp blessedly stilled him. She bent down and placed the basket of bread in front of him.

  “Thank you, Becca,” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her skin.

  Rebecca blushed again, hotly this time. She looked at him and read the amusement in his eyes. She straightened and quickly walked away from the table.

  Geoffrey broke off a piece of bread, smiling to himself. That morning, when she’d surprised him in his room then left so suddenly, made him wonder if she’d truly been there or if she was part of the wonderful dream he’d had before waking. Her lips had been so soft, her touch magical. She seemed to be having none of it this afternoon.

  After finishing his meal, Geoffrey left the dining room, bound for the parlor. The sound of voices stopped him just outside the doorway.

  “So what did Kane say to ya that turned ya all red?” he heard the other serving girl, Emmy, ask Rebecca.

  “Nothing, really.”

  Emmy snorted. “Ah, come on, love. He’s a handsome devil, and obviously taken with ya.”

  Geoffrey blinked. Taken with her? Hell, he wanted her, plain and simple.

  “What makes you say that?” Rebecca asked.

  “The way he looks at ya, silly.”

  “I like the way he says my name,” she said softly. “He calls me Becca.’”

  “Does he, now? Ain’t that cozy?”

  “No. I just like it, that’s all.”

  “Okay, love. I won’t tease ya about it, then.”

  The voices faded, and Geoffrey surmised that the women had left the room. He entered to find that he was right. He lowered himself onto a damask-covered settee. Rebecca had been as affected as he had. He’d felt it in his room. But why the shy blushes? Surely she couldn’t be completely innocent, not living in an inn as busy as this one. Not with all the men as taken with her charms as he was. That thought soured his mood. He didn’t like the idea of any other man touching her. He was surprised by that sudden wave of possessiveness.

  “Easy, Kane,” he told himself. “She’s just a pretty girl and it’s been a while since you’ve had a tumble.”

  He turned his attention to the stack of books left on the table. Choosing one, he opened it and put thoughts of Rebecca Kingsley out of his mind.

  That evening, Geoffrey entered the dining room. He sat at an empty table and smiled as Emmy placed a platter of hearty beef stew in front of him.

  “And how are ya this evenin’, Kane?” she asked, running her gaze over him.

  “Just fine, Emmy.” He smiled.

  Although he tried, he couldn’t stop his eyes from searching for Rebecca’s slender form. He wasn’t disappointed. She stood across the room, talking quietly to her father. As Geoffrey watched, she began to wring her hands, a look of distress marring her exquisite features. Geoffrey frowned, unaware of the telling action.

  But Emmy didn’t miss it. “So it’s like that, is it?”

  “What?”

  “Nothin’. Anythin’ else?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  Emmy nodded and turned away to see to the other diners. “About bloody time.”

  Geoffrey ignored her parting comment, his eyes on Becca as she floated about the room. He didn’t miss the obvious lust in the eyes of the other patrons, however. He wanted to flatten every last one of them.

  His food seemed to lose its taste, so he washed it down with more ale.

  * * * *

  “I’m telling you, Jenkins. I’ve got to get that girl married off, and right quick.”

  Peter Jenkins nodded at Thomas, then smiled. “I can see what ya mean. All those young pups droolin’ after her. Yer goin’ ter have to keep her locked up.”

  “It’s not funny,” Thomas growled. “I have no dowry for her. And my rank as the third son of a baronet yields me no bargaining power.”

  Peter hid his smile, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. “Ya know, Thomas, the way I see it, this here inn is worth a pretty penny. And as likely as not, whoever she marries is goin’ ter get it in due time, right?”

  Thomas’s curiosity was piqued. “Yes, so? What are you getting at?”

  “Wouldn’t the inn be enough of a dowry?”

  Thomas rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “I suppose so, if the man had money of his o
wn. But what good does that do me now?”

  “What are you talkin’ about?” Peter asked.

  “She’s a comely girl. Maybe some rich gentleman will pay to have her.”

  “Thomas, you can’t mean …?”

  “No! To have her for his wife, you sot.” He nodded. “Yes. This bears thinking on.”

  Peter stared at Rebecca for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes. “The older she gets, the more she looks like her mother, ’cept for the eyes. Aye, she was pretty, with all that dark hair. I remember the fetchin’ picture she made when she rode. Her hair flyin’ out free behind her, her blue eyes all sparklin’. You were a lucky man, Thomas.”

  Thomas stiffened at the mention of Rebecca’s mother. “Yes,” he said in a low voice. “Lucky.”

  “Well, my friend,” Peter said, “ya better do somethin’ soon.”

  “Don’t I know it. I better get her wed while she’s still pure.” Thomas paused to smile wryly. “A virgin would fetch a high price around these parts.”

  Peter looked shocked for a moment. “Oh, yer jestin’.”

  Thomas smiled widely. “Of course.”

  * * * *

  As soon as the diners were fed, Rebecca climbed the stairs to her chamber. She longed for some peace and quiet. Her father had spoken of marriage again. She didn’t want to marry anyone he picked out for her. She had no real suitors, but she knew there must be someone out there for her. Geoffrey’s face popped into her mind. No. He wasn’t the man for her, either. He was just a gentleman with enough coin to secure a room at Raven’s for a period of time on his way to some other amusement. She’d been wooed by other gentlemen, titled and not, and her heart remained untouched.

  She really knew nothing of Geoffrey but his pleasing face. And teasing smile. And his kiss! She still tingled when she thought of it. She’d retire early. Perhaps in the solitude of her room, she could reason through her odd reaction to that particular man.

  “Good evening, Becca,” Geoffrey said in her ear.

  She started and turned, surprised to find him standing close behind her. “Geoffrey!”

  He smiled crookedly at her. “Ah, so it’s ‘Geoffrey’ again.”

  Rebecca stepped back, pressing herself against the panel of her door. He moved closer, bracing an arm above her head. With his other hand, he caressed her cheek. She gazed into his eyes, lost in their blue depths.

  “I wished to speak to you at dinner, but you were much too busy,” he said, his eyes staring into hers. “Why do you think that was, Becca?”

  “I—uh,” she stammered. “That is ….”

  He ran his thumb slowly over the curve of her lower lip. Oh, his touch!

  “I think the truth is that you can’t stop thinking about this morning,” he said, his voice a caress. “About our kiss.”

  She drew in a breath, shaking her head.

  “Yes,” he insisted, gently grasping her chin to tilt her head up. “And neither can I.”

  The full meaning of his words penetrated her muddled mind. She could only watch as he bent his head to hers, his eyes dark. His lips touched hers fleetingly. He pulled back and ran a hot gaze over her face. His gaze settled on her lips. With a soft groan, he kissed her again, harder this time. His tongue flicked over her lips. She didn’t know what he wanted, only that his mouth was so warm, so insistent. She opened her mouth to ask him what to do and his tongue swept inside. She whimpered, more surprised than scared. She reached up to twine her fingers in the soft, thick curls at the nape of his neck, moaning in the back of her throat. The little sound seemed to drive him on. He cupped her face in his hands, slanting his mouth over hers again and again.

  Geoffrey finally dragged his mouth from hers. He took her hands and brought them down to rest on his chest. “I’m sorry, Becca. I only meant to ….”

  Her head lay back against the door, her lips parted as she took short breaths. “To what, Geoffrey?”

  “To tease you. To … taste you again.”

  She opened her eyes to stare up at him. “Geoffrey.”

  His eyes seemed to smolder. “My God—” He kissed her quickly and stepped back from her. “Good night, Becca,” he said, an unknown warning in his tone.

  “Good night, Geoffrey,” she breathed, gazing into his beautiful eyes.

  He started to walk toward his own door when he looked back at her. “I like the way you say my name, too, Becca.”

  That brought her back to her senses. She eyed him as, laughing softly, he closed his door.

  She straightened. “Oh, my.”

  Chapter 3

  After breakfast the next morning, Geoffrey borrowed a trap from the inn and drove into town to learn precisely how long the blasted wheel was going to take. He also wanted to put some distance between himself and Becca. The way she responded to him, so giving and trusting …. When her soft mouth opened up for him, he’d shaken with his need. He was very nearly unable to stop himself. Never before had a woman affected him so.

  He was no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh. He’d bedded many a wench, and never left one of them unhappy. But this girl was different. She couldn’t still be pure, not the way she’d returned his kisses. Hell, if he’d simply opened the door to her room, she’d have given herself to him fully. So what had stopped him?

  Those eyes, clear and innocent one minute, then darkened with passion the next. Becca seemed almost vulnerable. Whatever had she spoken of with her father last evening? Her upset had been clear to him. No matter. If he bedded her, that thought caused him to harden, could he just leave? Or would she worm her way into his heart?

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  After Bennett told him he still hadn’t started on the wheel, on doctor’s orders apparently, Geoffrey returned to the inn. As he sat in the overstuffed chair in his room, he thought back to the meeting with his solicitors. They’d told him that certain entries in his accounting ledgers just weren’t adding up. There were payments made to tradesmen for repairs to Geoffrey’s estate, but he was not familiar with the firms seeking payment. It seemed however, over the last few months or so, small amounts of capital were somehow unaccounted for. They were examining their books in this regard, seeking to find any clerical error that might have been made. He had no true reason to doubt his solicitors, as the firm was well-respected and had served the Kane family for generations. He rose and stood by the window.

  His room had a clear view of the stables and the rolling hills beyond. Perhaps a ride would clear his head. Suddenly, a flash of color caught his eye. There, riding like the wind, was Becca. She wore a green riding habit, but no hat was on her head. Her glorious hair billowed out behind her, unbound. His breath caught in his throat. She looked so free, so beautiful, as she galloped her black filly over the rich green of the hillside.

  Intense longing flared through him. “Ah, hell.” He turned from the window and went downstairs to the parlor.

  He grabbed up a book he’d started to read the previous afternoon. He sat and read quietly for a while until male voices broke through his concentration.

  “I’ll get her married, Peter. Soon, and to a man of my choosing.”

  “Rebecca won’t want to marry some old man you pick for her, Thomas. Think of the girl.”

  “I am thinking of her. Keeping her here at the inn wasn’t enough for her mother. Sometimes, I regret …. Ah, never mind.”

  “Then who do you want her to marry?” Peter asked as their voices began to fade.

  Unfortunately, Thomas’s answer was lost as the two men entered the office and closed the door.

  Why was Kingsley worried about marrying her off? She was a beautiful girl. Certainly she had many suitors. And what had Peter meant by “some old man?” Geoffrey refused to let it bother him.

  Stay out of it. He had enough to worry about with his accounts. He’d be leaving in a few days and she’d be out of his sights.

  But would she be out of his mind? He shook his head. He wasn’t going to lose his head over a
lovely face again, not after what happened with Patricia four years ago. He’d come upon her and his younger brother in bed together and apparently Geoffrey’s betrothed had been playing him false for months as she was carrying John’s baby. After a hasty wedding, John and Patricia were given rooms in one wing of Kanewood, and Geoffrey did his best to avoid them.

  Now, he took what was offered to him and made no promises, Rebecca Kingsley notwithstanding. She roused a protective streak in him that he vowed to keep dormant.

  The next morning, Geoffrey again set out in the borrowed trap. He’d written a letter to his mother to let her know he’d been delayed. He posted the letter in town and climbed back into the trap and started back toward the inn. When Rebecca walked out of a shop not far from where he sat, he changed his mind. She wore a green dress and a straw bonnet with a matching ribbon tied beneath her chin. Her figure was shown to advantage in the laced-trimmed, fitted bodice. How could she manage to be both sweet and sensual?

  He alighted the trap to stand in front of her. With her attention focused on the full basket in her arms, she bumped into him. With a murmured beg of pardon, she looked up. Her eyes widened as she saw him.

  “Hello, Becca,” he said.

  She averted her gaze from his. “Hello, Geoffrey,” she answered softly.

  “No maid accompanies you?”

  “No. The inn can’t spare it. My father had one of the grooms take me. He’ll be back in an hour’s time.”

  “Oh.” Odd, but nothing about Rebecca seemed quite the norm. “What is in the basket?” he asked, lifting the cloth tucked over the top.

  Inside were some luscious summer fruits, slabs of hard cheese, and fresh bread from the bakery.

  “I had to purchase some items at the market.”

  “Looks like the makings of a picnic to me,” he hinted.

  She shook her head. “Oh, no. This is for the inn.”

  She resumed her pace and Geoffrey walked in step beside her. “Well,” he began, “it appears that I’ll miss the nooning meal. Perhaps I could purchase something from you to sustain me?”