She leaned back against the knobby tree trunk, struggling to catch her breath. It was impossible. Jonah just kept gazing down at her, then he reached out and his fingers caught the collar of her cloak. He tugged and buttons came free.

Before she could think to stop him, he smoothly loosened the wooden buttons on the front of her dress. Just four, and he slid his hand beneath the placket. The heat from his fingers seared through her wool underwear. He plundered those buttons too, never lifting his gaze from hers.

"Jonah, you mustn't do this." She breathed the words.

"I already am." His fingers brushed the soft inside curve of her left breast.

A sharp gasp drew her up. "But what about my betrothal?"

"By this time tomorrow, it will no longer exist. Trust me." His clever fingers molded the curve of her breast and began kneading.

On a sigh, she tipped back her head, exposing the long elegant column of her throat Cascades of black curls shimmered with Stardust, and he'd never seen anything so beautiful. She tossed her head to one side and then the other. With a moan, she arched her back and pressed the soft heat of her breasts into the palms of his hands. Soft light brushed her face, accenting the bow of her mouth, so relaxed with pleasure. He'd never seen such an enchantress.

She was a danger, this one. She could reach right in and grab hold of his heart. Blood liquefied in his veins, so hot and molten it thrummed in his groin, and his shaft pulsed hard and taut.

He tugged at more buttons, revealing her perfect flesh to the silvered moonlight. Sweet heaven, but she was a sight. Creamy white, her breasts, softly rounded, and pink tipped. She fit perfectly into his hands.

"Oh, Jonah," she breathed, her fingers curling around his upper arms, digging into his muscles.

Need punched through his body. His groin felt heavy and aching. She looked so ready, with her head tipped back and her eyes closed, making tiny moans as he slipped one hand down her abdomen to inch up her skirts.

Forgotten were the reasons he'd come. He adored the firmness of her breasts, so ripe he wanted to taste them. He bent down, intending to draw one generous nipple into his mouth.

But her hands caught his wrists, stopping him. "I hear something."

The words were whispers, spoken so raggedly he could hardly understand her. "Probably just my heart."

It was pounding like a war drum. All he could think of was finding his way beneath her skirts and burying his aching shaft deep within her willing body.

"Jonah-" The warning sharpened. She clutched her dress over her breasts, covering them.

Ely Bradford stood in the clearing, his gun in one hand. "I ought to shoot you where you stand, Hunter. My granddaughter has an agreement with my neighbor and good friend. She is not your property."

"Not yet." Jonah stood in front of Tessa while she fumbled with the buttons. Something wet struck his hand.

Her tears. With chin down, he couldn't read her face, but a warning went off in his head. Tessa Bradford was as tough as stone and twice as cold, or so many people said.

"You and I have much to discuss, Ely." Jonah turned his back on the man. He stared at Tessa's tears.

Her clothes straight, she lifted her chin. Heat stained her face. Shadows made her eyes black.

She was embarrassed. No, ashamed. Maybe Tessa wasn't as experienced as he thought.

Chapter Nine

Rain dripped from the eaves and beat at the outside walls of the attic, but Tessa refused to let the dreary weather dim her spirits. It was her wedding day.

"He sent his brother to come get your things," Violet huffed as she stormed into the tiny bedchamber. "Notice that he must not have wanted to come himself."

Tessa took one look at the triumphant malice on the girl's face. It had been no secret that everyone in the household had thought Violet held a good chance of being the major's choice for a bride. She kept her voice low. "His father is gravely ill. Jonah rarely leaves his side."

"He did to be alone with you in the woods." Violet's lip curled. "To compromise you. Everyone is talking about it. And wondering how many men there have been over the years."

Tessa clamped her jaw shut and tamped down her anger. She would not let the vicious girl rile her on this special day. She was getting married, something she had wished for on endless first stars of the night

And to a man who would not be abusive or cruel, to one who made her blood heat and her heart pitter-patter. She was marrying the most eligible bachelor in the whole of Baybrooke village. She, Tessa Bradford.

"Tell Thomas I'll be right down." Tessa turned her back and knelt to secure the old trunk's clasp.

"I'm hardly your servant." Violet's words came sharp, dripping with unveiled hatred. "There is only one reason why Major Hunter has agreed to marry you, and everyone knows it. And it isn't because you were caught with your bodice down. 'Tis because he wants you to take care of his father."

"He could hire ten women far more skilled than I am to tend his father. Everyone knows that, too." She held her chin firm and refused to let Violet's mean words bother her, even if the same thought had occurred to her last night when sleep would not come and she was remembering Jonah's touch, Jonah's passion.

"But some services he cannot hire here in the good township of Baybrooke, as last night proved. Why else would he risk getting caught trying to rut with you? Why else would he want an ugly, sharp-faced old hen when he could have-"

Heavy footsteps knelled in the tiny landing outside the attic room. A man cleared his voice.

Tessa stood to face Thomas Hunter, who was too tall to straighten to his full height outside her tiny bedchamber. "Thomas, I thought to bring the trunk down myself. The ladder is hard to manage."

"I've climbed ladders before carrying heavier items than your small trunk." He looked uncomfortable and his mouth crooked down in the corners. "Are you ready?"

"Aye. I just need to grab my cloak downstairs."

"Then go on down. I will follow with the trunk." He somehow molded his big body against the wall so she could pass.

"You did not need to come. I could have managed-"

"You are family now. The Hunters help their own." His words were cold, but his dark gaze was kind when he looked at her. Then he flicked his head upward to stare harshly at Violet.

"Mr. Hunter." Violet primped her lustrous curls with one soft hand. "How magnificent to have such an esteemed member of the community in our very own house."

" 'Tis a dubious honor at best."

Violet's flirting sagged, and she blinked several times, her jaw slackening.

Turning to climb down the rickety ladder, Tessa tried to hide her smile. She hurried out of Violet's way, who was barreling down after her, her anger at Thomas' insult barely disguised.

"Tessa." A deep bass welcomed from the parlor, proving Violet wrong.

"Jonah." He'd come. Every muscle in her body tensed. The air caught sideways in her throat.

He stood smack in the middle of the room, broad shoulders set, booted feet braced apart. Untamed black hair, windblown and lashed by the rain, framed his strong cut face. A black waistcoat draped his solidly planed chest, and dark breeches hugged his well-muscled thighs.

Fire licked to life inside Tessa's chest. Why was it this man who sent shivers down her spine and heat through her veins? "I did not think to see you before the ceremony."

"Surprise." His gaze raked hers boldly and a brazen grin stretched his mouth, not full-fledged, but just a hint of one, and she had no doubt he was remembering how he'd kissed her and caressed her breasts in the faint light of the moon.

She tingled deep inside at the memory, at the knowledge that he was thinking of it too. And grinning.

"Your grandfather and I have come to an agreement concerning your dowry."

"I didn't know you were expecting one." She flashed her gaze to Grandfather, who stood grave and dour-faced near the parlor's crackling hearth. "Surely there is not much to offer…"

Charity made a gasping sound in the corner, where Violet now huddled beside her. "A much-used bride is worth naught, I can tell you."

A much-used bride. Tessa closed her eyes, willing down the anger before it erupted. Let them think what they wanted. She knew the truth. And so did Jonah. She was a virgin still, yet her stepgrandmother's words did pierce like a well-sharpened edge of a blade.

"I am well enough satisfied," Grandfather grunted, arms crossed over his chest. Despite his unhappy expression, she saw the glint of greed in his eyes, a mostly veiled look of contentment. "All I want is for you to get out of my house before your reckless ways and evil tongue tarnish our good family's name for eternity."

"Amen to that." Charity's shrill voice rang with contempt. "We have Violet's reputation to think of. How many eligible bachelors have refused even to consider her because she is related to you?"

Tessa's stomach roiled at Charity and Violet's accusing gazes. Did they blame her because Jonah did not propose to Violet? She suspected they did.

"Now, Mistress Bradford, a gentle tongue is more becoming than a forked one." Jonah purred the insult so that it sounded less offensive, but all the more effective.

Charity's mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth.

Tessa's chest filled as he extended his hand to her, palm up, powerful and yet infinitely tender. His big fingers curled around hers and gently guided her close to him, not touching, but close enough so that she could smell the wondrous woodland scent of him and see the dark flecks of black in his spellbinding eyes. Anger sizzled there, controlled but definite.