“No, not yet.” He brought his hands to her hips and held her in place, his smile so mischievous, so full of delightfully wicked intentions that she settled herself on him once again, leaned over and kissed him. When she broke the kiss, he laughed. “That’s better.”
“You know I’m going to have to move…eventually.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to.” He smoothed his hands along her thighs. “Are your legs cramping?”
She shook her head. “No, not at all, but I am a little thirsty.”
He smiled up at her, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Come to think of it, I’m a bit parched myself.”
“Whiskey? Bourbon?” There had to be some of each in the kitchen ifPequeña Casawas used as much as Marisol said. “Water?”
“Champagne? I think this night definitely calls for champagne.”
“I don’t think we have any, but I’ll have to get up in order to look.”
Jake laughed as his hands grasped her shoulders, pulled her toward him and took possession of her mouth once more. “I’ll stay thirsty.”
CHAPTER 17
Jake looked down at Evie, asleep in his arms, the warm glow of the flickering candles casting a golden light over her. They’d made love three times, and each time it was a revelation, more glorious than the one before, but they couldn’t stay here much longer. The sun would be up soon, bringing with it the inevitable chores keeping Montaña del Trueno prosperous, yet he didn’t want to move, didn’t want this night to come to an end.
He planted a kiss on her forehead. Evie sighed in her sleep then moved a bit closer to him, her leg thrown over his, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand sprawled across his chest over his heart, seeping warmth into his skin. That feeling of completeness, ofbelonging, became so profound, his soul was flooded with it. He’d never felt that before. It was overwhelming and welcome...and so very scary.
Is this what I’ve been searching for my entire life? Is this what had been missing when I thought I had everything I ever wanted?
Startled by these waves of pure emotion crashing over him, he stiffened. Evie shifted in her sleep and mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch. He held her tighter, never wanting to letgo. She was his light, his dawn of a new day filled with hope, and when he looked into her eyes, he saw a future that was different than anything he’d ever known. Or dreamed of. Or thought was even possible.
Is this love?
He’d never been in love. Ever.
How does one know one is in love if one has never experienced it? And yet, he didn’t doubt his feelings for her. Not one bit. It was more than fondness and admiration for the woman she was.
No, it went much, much deeper than that. The sense of belonging stayed with him, growing, blossoming, filling the places in his soul that had never been touched.
He watched her with the children—her grandniece and -nephews. She was affectionate with them, always hugging them, kissing them on the cheek or forehead, ruffling their hair, laughing with them. He’d never experienced that as a child. Growing up at St. Anselm’s hadn’t provided the sort of affection she poured on the children. Yes, he’d been well cared for. His belly had never been empty. He’d had a roof over his head, and he’d been educated, but that was all. Father O’Malley and the Sisters there had a certain fondness for him, but that fondness had never been shown as openly as Evie showered on the children.
Her affection wasn’t on display to just them, either. It extended to everyone in her circle—her niece and nephews, Hilde, Antonio, Charley, and Felicity. Even her friends were recipients of the love she had to give.
His gaze swept over her fine features as he held her a little tighter, his fingers caressing the soft skin of her bare shoulder. Such goodness radiated from her, even in sleep, that his heart skipped a beat, only to resume with a painful thud.
I am in love with this woman!The revelation hit him with all the subtlety of an anvil dropping on his head.
And on the heels of that epiphany, another whispered through him—he had no choice but to tell her the truth about what had brought him there. He’d put it off for too long, and the telling of it had grown more difficult, especially after what they’d shared, but she deserved to know. Not just part of it, but all of it—even at the risk of breaking her heart. And his. Dread filled him. If she asked him to leave?—
He drew in his breath. The mere thought of leaving, of never seeing her again—even worse, of hurting her—made the newly found realization of loving her more urgent and painful.
She moved, snuggling into him closer, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He hadn’t realized she was awake.
“Evie?” he whispered.
“Hmmm?”
“I have something to tell you.”
“What is it, Jake?” Her voice was soft and sleepy, her body, pressed against his, so warm.
“I love you, Miss Evie Miller.”
