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Jordy captures my bottom lip swiftly this time, then takes my full mouth, crushing any words I might have spoken in protest, not that I have any objections. When our mouths are one, I close my eyes, my mind a dizzying sensation of warmth and pure satisfaction. I can smell his skin, like smoke and musk, and I slide a hand into his hair, deepening the kiss. I want him ever near me, never want the kiss to end.
But, like all good and fantastic things, it does.
“Was that more to your liking, my lady?” Jordy offers a hand to help me up.
“It was, my lord.” I ask him the only question that has ticked in my brain since the kiss was offered. I need to know, have wanted it to be so for a very long time now. “Am I your lady, Jordy?”
He lifts my hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on top of it. “You have been my lady since the first time you walked into the bakery.”
My voice is a quiet thing. “Me, Jordy? The match girl?”
His soulful eyes search mine. “You are no match girl, Milla. You are the flame that awakens the match, and I want you more than air.”
His lips find mine again, and I melt into his bronzed arms. If all we ever have is this moment, then I am contented in it.
Jordy wantsme.
The match girl.
“One more,” he says when I straighten my skirts and inspect the thyme plants to ensure we haven’t lost any. “One more kiss before our rendezvous is over, now that you are declared as mine.”
“And if I refuse?” I playfully suggest.
“Aye, there will be no refusing. You are my lady. No time to be greedy with your affections now…unless you find my kisses a dull thing.”
I capture his lips before his words halt, never wanting him to think his kisses are anything less than magical, necessary, every dream I’ve ever dreamt since knowing him. I thread my fingers into his hair and tug his mouth deeper into mine. His large had spreads across the small of my back, his other finding my cheek. He trails a thumb across it and I gasp.
“Is this to your liking, my lady?” he whispers against my lips.
“Don’t stop, sir. Just kiss me.”
He obliges and I melt against his touch, dizzying with tingles and shivers and every forbidden feeling only spoken of on side streets and tavern halls among the women more experienced than the likes of me. But it feels good, so I tremble for more.
What shall I ever wish for again?
CHAPTER 6
If I ever make it to heaven, I’m sure I will learn that Jordy is an angel who has fallen down to Earth. He walked me to my door and kissed my cheek in the delicate way a gentleman does, not caring who saw. That is how I know his intentions are good and true. I am his lady. I think I shall wear this smile forever.
“Gram,” I say when I’m inside the door, “I have an entire basket of thyme, enough to stock the apothecary through winter. Come and see.”
I hear the cough before she enters the room. “Oh, child, you are a welcomed sight. Your efforts are most appreciated. Will you help me shelve it?”
“No,” I say, “I will watch you sit while I steep you some thyme tea, and then you will continue to sit and drink it as I stock the shelves alone. You will not lift another finger until that cough is tamed.” I pull a chair out for her and pat the seat. “Now, sit. Milla’s orders.”
The corners of her mouth turn up into a grin as she pushes a piece of gray hair back into her tight bun. “Yes, madam.” Gram taps my bottom with the back of her hand. “But I will admit, you are becoming a bit of a tyrant in your maiden years.”
I grimace and shake my head. I tuck a few of my own stray hairs under my bonnet and start breaking up the leaves to steep. I join Gram at the table when the kettle is over the flame.
“So,” I say, “Jordy helped me pick the thyme today. I was surprised when he accepted my offer, but after what transpired on our escapade in the forest, I’m sure he will never refuse another offer to help me again.”
Gram raises an eyebrow. “Oh, and why would that be?”
I fetch her tea and set the cup in front of her before answering, “He wants to court me…and he kissed me.” I raise my eyes slowly, expecting a speech on decorum and decency. But instead, she’s still smiling.
“Jordy is a fine young man,” she says, “and from a good family. He is quite the catch, my dear. And very easy on the eyes, am I right?”
“Gram! What has gotten into you?” I clasp her forearm that’s resting on the table and give it a squeeze. “And to think, I was worried about getting lectured on my virtues. Maybe I should lecture you.”
