The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) by Joan Johnston Page A

probably hadn’t smelled as clean as the men who showed up at her diplomatic dining table. But when she’d pulled her coat closed to keep him from looking at her breasts, and he admitted he’d leered to goad her, the tight leash he usually kept on himself had broken free.
    He’d moved into her space, stalking in a tight circle around her, brushing against her, feeling her flinch, seeing her nose wrinkle when she caught the odor of hardworking man. He’d made provocative suggestions about what he’d like to do with her—and to her. He’d felt her body tense, saw her look toward the door and escape.
    But he was much too aroused by then to let her go. And angry at her for making him want her, when it was so obvious to him that she was the very last sort of woman he needed in his life. The kind of woman he could come to crave. Like his father had craved the woman who’d been stolen away from him by Jackson Blackthorne. The woman who’d obsessed his father and made him a bad husband to the three women—or four, depending on whether you counted his annulled marriage—he’d subsequently made his wives.
    North’s intent had been to cow Jocelyn. To prove that she was too weak ever to stand up to him, and therefore an unfit mother for his children. So, after he’d taunted her into releasing her coat, he’d reached out and touched her breast.
    But she hadn’t run. She’d attacked, like a wild animal with its back to the wall, that knows its very life is at stake.
    He’d taken a step back after she’d slapped him and gestured toward the doorway, smirking. She’d hesitated for a moment and opened her mouth to speak, then turned and fled. He’d wondered for a long time afterward what she’d wanted to say.
    Unfortunately, although she’d walked away from him without looking back, she’d never left his thoughts. He hadn’t slept well that night, and many that followed, dreaming of her. Her fancy northeastern name, Jocelyn, had been shortened to a more casual western Joss in his dream encounters. And, he’d woken up hot and bothered by his dream woman too many times to count.
    He’d refused to go after her. He wasn’t going to repeat his father’s mistake. He wasn’t going to attach himself to a woman who occupied so much of his mind. And he’d never let her get near his heart.
    But he’d found out a lot about her over the past year. And somehow, even the whisper of her name had the power to make him dream of what might have been. When she’d shown up at his door tonight, looking up at him with those stunning violet eyes, so wide and innocent, he hadn’t been able to send her away.
    Shit. He should have known she was a virgin. The truth had been there all along, staring him in the face. Her hair pinned up to within an inch of its life against her head. Her clothes tying her up like a package not to be opened before Christmas.
    Tonight he’d discovered the real woman she’d kept so carefully hidden. With her amazing copper hair. And her delicate tatt. And her incredibly arousing lingerie. All of which only made him want her more. And made him even more determined not to let her get under his skin.
    His body tightened as he remembered how Joss had looked at him when he’d touched her. In wonder. And delight. And passion. She’d been aroused. He was sure of it.
    But she’d only offered herself as a virgin sacrifice for the sake of the man she loved. Damn her! He was a fool to let her stay. A fool to go through with this lopsided bargain.
    But if he let Joss leave, she would go back to Clay. And Libby would never have the chance to make amends with the man she’d always loved. Kate would be disappointed. And Libby would be devastated. He owed it to both of them to keep Jocelyn here.
    So, even though he might want to throw her out on her exquisite fanny, Joss couldn’t leave. He had to keep the virgin temptress here with him. At least until after her June 4 wedding date to Clay had come and gone.
    He might