will be on that steamer when it leaves for Manaus."
Chapter Four
Jason stalked from the house to the stable where he mounted his prized bay stallion and sent it flying over the twisting paths to the beneficio. The building and surrounding patios were silent and deserted, as he'd known they would be.
He unsaddled his horse and let it loose to graze and find shade from the blistering sun, then went to stand on the only empty patio, gazing out across the dark water to the jungle on the opposite side.
A widow.
Hadn't Derek even read his letter? Of all the people in the world, he would have expected Derek to understand his need to surround himself with purity.
He'd never been close to anyone, not really, but he and Derek had been friends during the three years he'd spent working at the Sinclair Coffee Company. And over the past year, Jason had revealed more about his past to Derek than he ever had to any other living soul. Betrayal by the one person he'd thought he could trust cut deeply. He'd poured his guts out to Derek in his letters. Derek should have understood.
He'd wanted a woman without expectations, a woman without knowledge of the world, a woman who would fit easily into the place he'd created for her and not complicate his life with a lot of questions and demands.
All he required was a woman to give him an heir, to give him tenderness when he wanted it, on his terms and without asking for anything from him in return. But tenderness had never been a part of his life, at least not after Peggy. If not for his older sister, his life would have been a wasteland. He'd believed her to be the most beautiful, most loving creature in the world. Peggy had tried to make their pitiful shack habitable. She was always picking wildflowers from the field behind their house and bringing them home or making paper lanterns that their father would destroy in one of his drunken fits of violence. It had been a useless exercise, but Peggy had never given up—not until the end when life and reality had finally extinguished the tiny flame that had been her spirit.
He hadn't thought of Peggy in a long time. It was Caroline's fault. She and his sister weren't at all alike, except that they were both beautiful and they were both dreamers. Peggy might have done something as impetuous as hopping on a boat and traveling to an unknown fate in a savage country, but Peggy would have been doing so to escape. Was that what Caroline had done?
Damn her! He didn't need complications. And why did it matter? He'd already decided she had to go when the mail steamer returned. There was no other way.
He closed his eyes, allowing the pain in his soul to wash over him. To be honest, he'd been looking for something, some flaw in her apparent perfection, something he could use to justify rejecting her. He couldn't bear it, being near her, always wondering when the demon inside him would strike out. She'd pushed him to the very brink of his restraint twice already, and she hadn't been in his house a week. So far he'd channeled his frustration into the escalating desire within him.
She would be better off without him. She could go back to New Orleans and resume her life, forget about him.
He wasn't proud of his behavior, but it had been necessary. He'd succeeded. For the remainder of her stay, she would go out of her way to avoid him. It was a good thing. He didn't know how much longer he could resist her. After all, he wasn't made of stone. Just thinking about her set his blood on fire. The feel of her lips against his, the softness of her skin still lingered vividly in his mind.
He opened his eyes when, without warning, the heavens parted and a drenching rain beat down on the already sodden earth. A wall of water surrounded the beneficio, cutting him off from the rest of the world. He breathed deeply of the exhilarating, familiar scent of wet jungle and sultry heat, listening to the sound of the rain battering the red tiled roof.
Work, that
Chapter Four
Jason stalked from the house to the stable where he mounted his prized bay stallion and sent it flying over the twisting paths to the beneficio. The building and surrounding patios were silent and deserted, as he'd known they would be.
He unsaddled his horse and let it loose to graze and find shade from the blistering sun, then went to stand on the only empty patio, gazing out across the dark water to the jungle on the opposite side.
A widow.
Hadn't Derek even read his letter? Of all the people in the world, he would have expected Derek to understand his need to surround himself with purity.
He'd never been close to anyone, not really, but he and Derek had been friends during the three years he'd spent working at the Sinclair Coffee Company. And over the past year, Jason had revealed more about his past to Derek than he ever had to any other living soul. Betrayal by the one person he'd thought he could trust cut deeply. He'd poured his guts out to Derek in his letters. Derek should have understood.
He'd wanted a woman without expectations, a woman without knowledge of the world, a woman who would fit easily into the place he'd created for her and not complicate his life with a lot of questions and demands.
All he required was a woman to give him an heir, to give him tenderness when he wanted it, on his terms and without asking for anything from him in return. But tenderness had never been a part of his life, at least not after Peggy. If not for his older sister, his life would have been a wasteland. He'd believed her to be the most beautiful, most loving creature in the world. Peggy had tried to make their pitiful shack habitable. She was always picking wildflowers from the field behind their house and bringing them home or making paper lanterns that their father would destroy in one of his drunken fits of violence. It had been a useless exercise, but Peggy had never given up—not until the end when life and reality had finally extinguished the tiny flame that had been her spirit.
He hadn't thought of Peggy in a long time. It was Caroline's fault. She and his sister weren't at all alike, except that they were both beautiful and they were both dreamers. Peggy might have done something as impetuous as hopping on a boat and traveling to an unknown fate in a savage country, but Peggy would have been doing so to escape. Was that what Caroline had done?
Damn her! He didn't need complications. And why did it matter? He'd already decided she had to go when the mail steamer returned. There was no other way.
He closed his eyes, allowing the pain in his soul to wash over him. To be honest, he'd been looking for something, some flaw in her apparent perfection, something he could use to justify rejecting her. He couldn't bear it, being near her, always wondering when the demon inside him would strike out. She'd pushed him to the very brink of his restraint twice already, and she hadn't been in his house a week. So far he'd channeled his frustration into the escalating desire within him.
She would be better off without him. She could go back to New Orleans and resume her life, forget about him.
He wasn't proud of his behavior, but it had been necessary. He'd succeeded. For the remainder of her stay, she would go out of her way to avoid him. It was a good thing. He didn't know how much longer he could resist her. After all, he wasn't made of stone. Just thinking about her set his blood on fire. The feel of her lips against his, the softness of her skin still lingered vividly in his mind.
He opened his eyes when, without warning, the heavens parted and a drenching rain beat down on the already sodden earth. A wall of water surrounded the beneficio, cutting him off from the rest of the world. He breathed deeply of the exhilarating, familiar scent of wet jungle and sultry heat, listening to the sound of the rain battering the red tiled roof.
Work, that
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