Westmoreland's Way - Brenda Jackson [37]
He mentally scrambled to make sense of that decision and released a deep breath when he finally did. She had touched a part of him in a way he could not walk away from. She might have assumed this was a one-night stand, but as far as he was concerned that was not the case.
He didn’t harbor any guilt that he was no better than Raphel in cutting in on another man’s territory. If nothing else he had discovered, before even kissing her that first time, that she really didn’t belong to Fletcher; at least not the way a woman should belong to the man she was about to marry—heart, body and soul. Totally and completely.
Now was still not a good time to bring up that fact and ask why she would even consider marrying a man she didn’t love, a man who hadn’t introduced her to passion. At first he’d thought he could get beyond that curiosity, deciding it was strictly her business. But that was no longer the case. Now it was his business, as well, mainly because as far as he was concerned Fletcher Mallard was not the man she needed.
He was.
Some may consider him thinking such a thing as arrogant, possibly even a little egotistical, and they probably would be right in their assumption, he thought. But something had happened tonight in that bed, something he couldn’t dismiss. Every time he went inside of her, he’d felt more than just sexual pleasure. He’d felt a sense of belonging. He’d felt a connection he could not explain and a deep, abiding need to claim her.
As far as he was concerned he wasn’t taking anything away from Mallard, because it was quite obvious that the man didn’t have a claim on her anyway. The only stamp Mallard had on her was the ring she had placed back on her finger. And, although he didn’t particularly like the sight of it there, he would tolerate it for now.
His gaze moved from her hand to her face. She was staring out into the night. It was time to leave but neither was making an effort to do so. He knew he couldn’t mention to her what he was thinking. For whatever reason she had decided to marry Mallard. He had news for her, but it wouldn’t be delivered tonight. He would give her time to make her own decision about things—namely in his favor. And if she didn’t, then he would intervene. He was the one who had introduced her to passion and he would be the one who would continue on with her lessons.
In the meantime, he would learn what kind of hold Mallard had on her to make her agree to a loveless and passionless marriage.
At that moment she looked up and met his gaze and he knew, whether she realized it or not, she was now his. That conclusion sent an immediate jolt to his nervous system, stimulated his brain and made every muscle in his body feel a strength of resolve he hadn’t felt in a long time. He needed time to think, but for now, he’d just accept things the way they were.
Silently, he reached out and began buttoning up her coat. Surprised, she blinked, then smiled up at him while studying his face. “Thank you. You take such good care of me.”
He smiled back, deciding not to tell her the reason he did so was because she belonged to him. Instead, he said, “You’ve been too hot to suddenly have to get cold.”
She laughed and then reached out and placed her arms around his neck. “Yes, I have been hot tonight and all because of you. You’re special, Dillon. I’ve known you for only a short time, but it seems like I’ve known you my entire life.”
He understood what she was saying, because he felt the same way about her. He’d never been a man who would lay claim to a woman after sleeping with her just one time. But with Pam, things were different. He didn’t know how, he just accepted that they were.
He felt his lips curve into a smile as he asked, “I never believed in that paranormal stuff, but do you think we could have been together in another life?”
He watched her brow furrow and then moments later the answer was in her eyes. “No,” she said. “Nothing would have obliterated from my mind the kind of passion