about what she was considering, it made her both nervous and excited at the same time. Was this what it felt like to be so close to a dream? She'd wanted a child for so long, and never, ever thought this might be a possibility for her. Never, of course, with Mr. Watkins. As she grew older each year she didn't think she would ever remarry if and when the time came that he passed from this life. For one, the entire community thought her an oddity, and two, no man ever looked at her the way Captain Gualtiero did. His smoldering gold-flecked cocoa eyes raked over her as though she were beautiful. It was enough to...
Breathe, Mary-Michael. You can do this.
Inhale. Exhale. When he touched her, her knees weakened and her body melted toward him. He smelled masculine, clean and fresh. Inhale. Exhale. Obviously there was some reciprocation of attraction, or he would not be playing these word games with her. "If he only knew what I wanted," she whispered into the empty room. Inhale. Exhale.
Any adulterous sentiment or action was sinful, no matter what Mr. Watkins said. It was what she'd been taught in her religious upbringing. And while she gave her husband her faithfulness and honor for these past six years, it was her husband who suggested a temporary liaison that would give Mary-Michael the child she so desired. Just one babe. That was all she wanted. All she'd prayed for because she wasn't a greedy woman at heart. But she was a woman. If this captain could just give her one babe to bear her husband's name and inherit her husband's fortune then all those prayers would be answered.
Inhale. Exhale. How was she going to survive tomorrow, now that the captain basically told her he was as attracted to her as she to him?
Inhale. Exhale. There was only one place to go at a time like this.
She took her plain white parasol and her pad, pencil, and rolled drawing from the night before and left the office. "Andrew, I'm going to work from home the rest of the day so I can start on the official drawings for our new client. But first, I'm going to stop by Becky's and try to have lunch with her."
The other man nodded and she left the building. As she passed the stable, she saw Victor was still out with the buggy, and didn't wonder much about it. With him gone, she wouldn't have to explain her desire to walk today.
But, before she went home she needed to visit with her friend, and tell her that she'd decided to go through with it.
L ucky had felt the ragged breath Mrs. Watkins drew when he'd caught her against him and he knew she shared this spark of a flame attempting to catch between them. His arm still burned with her heat even now, twenty minutes after leaving her office. A sick feeling welled up within him and the pressure made him want to scream. Scream as he hadn't done since he was a child. He'd bedded married women many times before, but always after he knew for certain he wouldn't wake with a blade at his throat from some jealous husband. This frustration bubbling inside him came from wanting something on a different—more intimate—level, and recognizing he couldn't have it. He wanted Mrs. Watkins in this way, and he knew he couldn't have her. She was devoted to another. An old man.
As he made his way back toward Avenger, he kicked a stone in the path for a few yards then, in frustration, picked it up and threw it as far as he could into the bay.
Why did this always happen to him? He realized that this life he chose for himself wasn't the most conducive to courting a woman, marrying, or producing a family. But he did want these things. With all his heart he truly desired them. He wanted the peace and happiness that Ian found with Sarah, and that his sister found with Ren. He loved children and wanted dozens of his own to love as he loved his nieces and nephews.
Long ago he and Ian had bonded over fate's cruel hand when it came to family. Ian had overcome his issues of being abandoned by his father, to live with a
Breathe, Mary-Michael. You can do this.
Inhale. Exhale. When he touched her, her knees weakened and her body melted toward him. He smelled masculine, clean and fresh. Inhale. Exhale. Obviously there was some reciprocation of attraction, or he would not be playing these word games with her. "If he only knew what I wanted," she whispered into the empty room. Inhale. Exhale.
Any adulterous sentiment or action was sinful, no matter what Mr. Watkins said. It was what she'd been taught in her religious upbringing. And while she gave her husband her faithfulness and honor for these past six years, it was her husband who suggested a temporary liaison that would give Mary-Michael the child she so desired. Just one babe. That was all she wanted. All she'd prayed for because she wasn't a greedy woman at heart. But she was a woman. If this captain could just give her one babe to bear her husband's name and inherit her husband's fortune then all those prayers would be answered.
Inhale. Exhale. How was she going to survive tomorrow, now that the captain basically told her he was as attracted to her as she to him?
Inhale. Exhale. There was only one place to go at a time like this.
She took her plain white parasol and her pad, pencil, and rolled drawing from the night before and left the office. "Andrew, I'm going to work from home the rest of the day so I can start on the official drawings for our new client. But first, I'm going to stop by Becky's and try to have lunch with her."
The other man nodded and she left the building. As she passed the stable, she saw Victor was still out with the buggy, and didn't wonder much about it. With him gone, she wouldn't have to explain her desire to walk today.
But, before she went home she needed to visit with her friend, and tell her that she'd decided to go through with it.
L ucky had felt the ragged breath Mrs. Watkins drew when he'd caught her against him and he knew she shared this spark of a flame attempting to catch between them. His arm still burned with her heat even now, twenty minutes after leaving her office. A sick feeling welled up within him and the pressure made him want to scream. Scream as he hadn't done since he was a child. He'd bedded married women many times before, but always after he knew for certain he wouldn't wake with a blade at his throat from some jealous husband. This frustration bubbling inside him came from wanting something on a different—more intimate—level, and recognizing he couldn't have it. He wanted Mrs. Watkins in this way, and he knew he couldn't have her. She was devoted to another. An old man.
As he made his way back toward Avenger, he kicked a stone in the path for a few yards then, in frustration, picked it up and threw it as far as he could into the bay.
Why did this always happen to him? He realized that this life he chose for himself wasn't the most conducive to courting a woman, marrying, or producing a family. But he did want these things. With all his heart he truly desired them. He wanted the peace and happiness that Ian found with Sarah, and that his sister found with Ren. He loved children and wanted dozens of his own to love as he loved his nieces and nephews.
Long ago he and Ian had bonded over fate's cruel hand when it came to family. Ian had overcome his issues of being abandoned by his father, to live with a
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