conversationally.
She smiled sadly. “She used to write to my grandmother. But two years ago, my mother died of the cholera.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss. That must have been difficult for you. Do you live with your father and brother then?”
How did he know she had a brother? She must have said something about him yesterday. “My brother, yes, when he is in town. But my father was killed less than two years before my mother’s death.”
He flinched with the news. “Again I am sorry. You must be strong to endure such hardships,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “Let’s clean that cut of yours, shall we?” she said, changing the subject. She wrung out the rag she had been twirling in the water and stood.
“ Would you care to fetch Mrs. Lovegood first?” he asked.
Why would she go next door and get her neighbor to help? “No, I can manage.”
He nodded. “Then have at it.”
She stared at him in contemplation. She would have to get closer, obviously, but what angle would be best?
She chose the sofa. She kneeled next to him on it and turned his head toward her so she could see the cut above the eye. She placed one hand on the left side of his face to brace his head , and she began dabbing at the cut just above his right eye with the wet rag. She didn’t think much of the intimacy of the situation until she found him watching her quite solemnly. Her breath caught in her throat and she forgot to breathe as she stared right back. His hand came up slowly and he cupped her face gently. His thumb caressed her cheek, and his eyes lingered on her lips. He leaned in toward her and brushed her lips with his. Her eyes closed automatically, and she released that breath of air she’d been holding in a sigh of pleasure.
He kissed her again, more deeply this time, pulling her closer. She’d never been kissed before and the sensation was exhilarating. His lips moved, and hers moved with them. They were even closer now, his arms wrapping around her body snuggly. Her hands trembled as they moved through his hair to wrap her arms around his neck.
The kiss deepened and grew more aggressive. The hunger it sparked within Josephine was shocking. She wanted to be closer, but they were already so close, closer wasn’t possible. Then he drew her into his lap, and she realized closer was indeed possible. But the driving need inside her didn’t subside. She wanted more. She wanted…
What am I doing? she suddenly wondered. This was a man of society. He would hold no ties to her, but he would probably take whatever she would give if not force it upon her. She jerked away from him, sprung off the sofa, and took several steps back. She was breathing raggedly as was he, and he looked stunned. She didn’t know what to say. She had caused this, dragging him into her home so she could take care of his wound. What had she been thinking? She was smarter than this. He was a stranger to her. But something about this man pulled at her heart.
He looked like he was about to say something.
She pointed to the chunk of plant lying on the floor next to the wash basin. “That is from a plant called the Aloe Vera plant. My aunt claims it does wonders for healing. Rub the juices on your cut. It will help.” With those words, Josephine turned and dashed into the kitchen. She braced herself against the counter and forced deep, steady breaths. She had to focus on what was possible and what was not. A life with Connor Tananguard was not, so she could not kiss him again no matter how badly she wanted to. And she would not be one to frolic with a lord no matter how tempting his looks were. She was a virtuous woman, not the mistress type, and that was the only way she would have this man: as his mistress. Her heart broke with what she knew to be true. Connor Tananguard was beyond her, and he was also in her kitchen staring at her intently.
“Josephine—”
“Forgive me, Mr. Tananguard,” she
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