Goddess of the Hunt (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #1)

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “I’d imagine the back of your neck doesn’t look too pretty, either.” When his face didn’t soften, she said, “Jeremy, they’re just a few bruises. I’ve suffered far worse from falling out of a tree, much less being loved against one.”


His pale blue eyes were chips of ice. Lucy shook her head slowly. “You’ve been trying to frighten me away with that glare for years now, Jeremy. It’s never going to work. You think I didn’t know that there was something beneath that cool surface? Of course I knew. I always have, in some way, or else I wouldn’t have been forever provoking you to get at it.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Lucy, you don’t know—”

“Yes, I do.” She placed her hand against his chest. “I know you. I know what’s in there, because it’s in me, too. There’s passion and loyalty and pride and desire and a hundred other things. And not all of it’s good, and none of it’s gentle. It’s fierce and wild and so intense that it scares you. You’re afraid to let anyone see.”

Lucy fisted her hand around his shirt and pulled until he met her gaze. “Don’t let it scare you.” She swallowed. “I see it. All of it. And it doesn’t scare me.”

She slid her hand inside his shirt, splaying her fingers over his heart. “Inside here, there’s a warm, generous, loyal, compassionate man. His tenants are going to respect him. One day, our children will adore him.” His eyes softened, and he drew a sharp breath as if he would speak.

“But not me,” she added.

His face shut down. “Not you?”

“No.” She shook her head and smiled. “I’m in love with the addle-brained brute.”

She trailed her fingers over his bare chest, feeling hot sweat and hard muscle and a fierce, thumping heart. “You know, you’ve a very inflated opinion of your charm if you think you convinced me to marry you against my wishes. I wanted you, too. That day in the orchard. Earlier tonight. Every minute in between. I wanted to marry for love, and I did. I loved you the day I married you. I love you now.” Her voice quivered. “I will love you always, and …”

“Lucy,” he groaned, pressing his thumb against her lips. “Stop. Just stop.”

“Stop?”She brushed his hand away. What did he mean? Stop speaking? Stop loving him? Lucy didn’t intend to do either.“You stop,” she said, her voice suddenly bold. Using the solid strength of the door behind her, she pushed against his chest with both hands. He stumbled back a step.

“Stop arguing with me.” She pushed him again, backing him up to the table. He sank his weight down on it, losing a good four inches of height in an instant. His legs sprawled wide, and Lucy stepped between them.

She met those ice-blue eyes, now situated just a few inches above her own. “You want to hear that I need you?” He nodded—a bob of the head so slight, she doubted he did it consciously. “Jeremy, I do need you. I need you desperately, andthat scares me. I don’t need your money, or your gifts, or even your protection. I needyou . And right now, for the love of all that’s holy, I need you tostop interrupting . I need you to look me in the eye and hear me when I say I love you. And damn it, Jeremy—I need you to believe it.”

He opened his mouth to speak. She clapped a hand over his lips and lowered her voice to a growl. “Stop. Interrupting.”

He shut his eyes, sighing with resignation against her palm. Lucy withdrew her hand. She allowed her thumb to linger over the curve of his lower lip. “Look me in the eye,” she said softly.

He did.

With the full force of that Look burning into her, she whispered, “Hear me.” She put her hands on his shoulders, bracing him. “I love you, Jeremy.” His weight shifted under her, and she tightened her grip. “Believe it.”

Then Lucy held his gaze, dug in her heels, and waited.

Stop this, his eyes commanded, his stern brow creasing for emphasis.I forbid you to love me. Get away. Move. Now .

She shook her head slightly. “You know that Look doesn’t work on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Blue bewilderment crept into his gaze. “Why?” His voice was rough, demanding. “Damn it, Lucy, why? I’ve given you no reason to love me.”

“I don’t need a reason. But you’ve given me many. Because you want to make me happy and keep me safe. Because you know me in the dark. Because when I’m near you, every bit of me comes alive. Because I make you come alive, too. Because … justbecause.” She firmed her chin. “Because I do, and you can’t stop me.”

Then his brow softened and his gaze turned pleading, and Lucy’s heart ached.

“Don’t ask this,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. “I don’t know what to do with those words. I don’t remember the last time I heard them, if I ever did, and …”

“And they scare you. I know.”