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"And you?" She leaned into him.

"There's nothing wrong with me. Nothing you can't fix." He smoothed a finger over a slanted eyebrow and pushed his fingers into her hair. "You are so beautiful." He dipped his head and took her mouth with his. The kiss was fiery, intense. The only thing it had in common with the kiss from last night was the possessive thrust of his tongue into her mouth. This kiss contained heat, ownership. Opening her mouth wider for him, she reveled in his possession.

Jake tried to restrain the passion running through him. It was almost impossible. He had been aching for her for a long, long time. He moved his mouth away and leaned his forehead against hers. A shudder went through her and she whimpered softly.

"Do you like that Becky? Do you like me kissing you?" He ran one hand down the curve of her back and landed on her backside. He curved his hand around the softness there. She moaned. She didn't have enough sanity left to answer him.

With their foreheads together, he took his hand from her hair and slid it along the soft curve of her cheek, to her neck. He wrapped his hand around her neck and gently squeezed. She sucked in a breath. He left her neck, and continued the slide downward. His fingers slid over her dress and stopped at the valley between her breasts. He splayed his hand wide. His thumb and the bottom of his palm rested on the curve of one breast, his fingers on the curve of the other. He lightly pressed against her. "What do you have there, sweetheart?"

Still, she couldn’t answer him. He moved his thumb slightly and stroked it over her nipple, once, twice, then three times. A small cry came from her throat and her pelvis pushed into his. He continued the strokes that maddened them both. "Tomorrow, I'm going to strip you naked, and touch you all over." Their hips strained together. "You're going to like it, I can tell you'll like it. Are you going to let me touch you, like I've been aching to, sweetheart?"

His breathing was labored, his lungs pulling in oxygen. He swiveled his face and caught her mouth under his. Their tongues met and tangled. He lifted his mouth and demanded an answer.

"Yes, Jake," she panted. "Whatever you want." He reached for her mouth again. She pulled away. "And do I--do I get to touch you, too?

A barrage of images slammed into his brain. He was going to have a damn heart attack before tomorrow got here. He was going to explode if he didn't get this under control. He whipped her around and pulled her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. The moon was rising above the river. "Yes, Becky. You'll get to touch me all you want."

Chapter Six

The day of their wedding was dark and rainy. Jake barely noticed as he prowled back and forth like a tiger in a cage.

She was late.

He paced in the small antechamber next to the pulpit. The preacher and Tyler Jones, his longest-serving deputy and best man, waited with him. The small Methodist church had filled up quickly. Everybody in town wanted to see them tie the knot. The organist played in the background as they waited for the bride, the bride's aunt, and the matron of honor to arrive.

For the last fifteen minutes, Jake had been in agony. Ever since Sam Bolton and his wife had shown up. They were good people. Good citizens. Jake wouldn't let himself dislike them. Their attendance wasn't the problem.

There was no sign of Kyle. And Becky was late. Primal fear and anger raged through his system. He would give her exactly two more minutes, and then he was going to find her.

Becky was horrified when Kyle stopped them outside the General Store next to the church and made a final plea for her hand. She held onto Miranda's arm and wouldn't let the other two women leave her. Her aunt had an armful of flowers and stood behind Miranda.

Why wouldn't Kyle understand? Once again, she tried to explain. She tried to imagine how she would feel if Jake didn't want to marry her. All at once, looking at Kyle, she realized that his feelings for her ran deep. She tried to be kind and tender as she once and for all ended his pursuit.

"Kyle. I'll always remember you as a dear friend. But I love Jake. I always have. You'll find someone else, you will. You are the dearest, sweetest man." She reached out and put her hand on his sleeve. "I know that good things are going to happen. You have so much to give. The love you have in your heart--"

Becky stopped in a rush as Jake grabbed her hand from Kyle's sleeve and pulled her away. "You're late," he growled as he started to drag her off the porch and into the rain. She pulled away from him.

"Jake, stop. I can't get my dress wet. It's silk. It will ruin." Her words and tone conveyed her distress.

"I don't care. I'll buy you another one," he barked and picked her up in his arms and started toward the church.

Aunt Beth and Miranda hurried after them.

Jake shoved the church door open and carried Becky inside. She was damp

, but not drenched. He dropped her to her feet. She heard the organ music playing and noticed in shock that the church was full and all eyes were turned and facing them. They had seen Jake carry her inside.

"I want to get this done," he snarled.

Unlike the events before the wedding, the ceremony itself went off without a hitch. Jake stood solemnly beside her as they recited their vows. He slid a gold band on her finger and kissed her with possession in front of the whole town.

The wedding was held at mid-morning and afterwards they had a traditional wedding breakfast. The rain eventually stopped and the sun began shining.

Her aunt handed them a wicker basket afterwards and whispered that it was food for them to enjoy that day, so Becky wouldn't have to cook.

Jake ruthlessly herded her back to his house and pushed her inside. He slammed the door behind him. Becky put the basket on the table. Her sewing supplies and the blue gingham material was still spread out on the table, where she had deserted them. She picked up the material and folded it, lovingly smoothing her hands over it. She glanced around the room. She hadn't seen it this untidy in three years. She turned to face him.

He lounged indolently against the door, his posture oozing satisfaction. Twin feelings of excitement and nervousness surged through her.

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