Page 77 of Once in Every Life


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"I suppose I could spend a few spare moments with her then."

Tess nodded encouragement. "I'll work with her at home. Every night."

Miss Ames allowed herself a cautious smile. "You will? All right, then. We shall try this approach and see if it works. Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Rafferty." She shot a no-nonsense nod to Jack, who was still sitting stiff as a board at the back of the room. "Mr. Rafferty."

Tess shook the older woman's bony hand. "No, Miss Ames. Thank you."

Miss Ames strapped up her pile of books and strode briskly out of the schoolhouse. When the door banged shut, Tess threw her hands up in the air and let out a whoop of laughter. "We did it. She'll help her, Jack!" When she turned back around, Jack was gone. Grabbing a handful of skirt, she ran down the aisle and pushed through the half-open door. Jack was sitting on the top step. Hunched over, chin in his hands, he was staring at the ground.

She skidded to a stop and sat down beside him. Her fanny thumped on the sagging wooden slat.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said dully. "Pretending only makes it worse." "Pretending what?"

"To care. It'll only hurt Katie more when you go back to your old ways. Don't?" He turned to her. Pain as raw as a new wound filled his eyes. "Don't get her hopes up. Please ..."

Tess touched his face in a feather-stroke of compassion.

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"Why?" The lone, softly spoken word slipped out before she could stop it.

He flinched at her touch. "Why what?"

"Why are you so afraid of her?"

His breath expelled in a tired, ragged sigh that skimmed her cheeks. The agonizing pain in his eyes tore at her heart with tiny, shredding fingers. "Lissa, please ..." His voice was frayed with emotion.

Tess moved toward him, drawn by the same dark, aching feeling she'd had when she'd first seen him. She touched his face again; this time the touch was a caress. Her eyes probed his, tried desperately to see past the fear. "I'm not the same, Jack. I won't hurt you again. I promise."

For a split second, she thought she saw hope in his eyes; then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. "Sure, Lissa.

I believe you."

"Believe this." She took his face in her hands. His eyes widened in sudden realization and he tried to pull away from her.

"Lissa, don't?"

She leaned toward him, knowing it was too early, knowing he wasn't ready, and doing it anyway.

She was going to kiss him. Jack's whole body tensed. He knew he should wrench out of her grasp and fling himself backward, but he couldn't move. He was frozen in place by the raw need of a man who'd been in love alone.

He wanted to feel her lips on his, wanted it so badly, he felt weak. He'd dreamed of this moment ever since he'd seen her half-naked in the bath. Like a prisoner left too long in dark solitude, he dreamed of the sunny warmth of her touch. Ached for it. And right now, with the memory of Miss Ames's condemnation strong and bitter on his tongue, he needed this. Needed her ...

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He felt her lips touch his, whisper-soft at first, just a whirring of breath and no more. A shiver skidded down his spine.

"Oh, God." The words slipped from his mouth in a groan of pleasure and pain. Trembling, he brought his hands to her face and held her, his fingers burrowing possessively into her hair. Need washed through his body in a red-hot wave. The love and desire he'd hidden for so long filled him. God, he wanted her....

He clung to her, lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her hungrily, greedily. His tongue forced her mouth apart and plunged inside the moist warmth. The kiss was everything he'd wanted, dreamed, and yet there was something in it that surprised him. Her lips felt as soft as always, and the scent of lavender clung to her as it always had, but there was a

gentleness in this kiss that was new. A caution that bespoke inexperience and just a touch of anxiety. It reminded him of their very first kiss, so long ago, when they'd both believed in love.

Slowly he drew back, keeping his eyes closed. He didn't want to see her right now, didn't want to take the chance that the coldness had crept back into her gaze. With that single, hungry kiss, he'd given her the ammunition she needed to crucify him. All she had to do was laugh.

"Jack." His name sounded soft and hesitant on her lips, as if she were as scared and shaken as he.

Surprised, he opened his eyes and looked at her. And was lost.

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