Honor and Desire (Gold Sky #3) - Rebel Carter Page 0,62

in her. Seylah could already tell she’d been wrong in her estimation of how easy talking to August might be.

This would still not be easy, necessary but not easy. Not in the slightest.

“Well, the matter at hand is simply this,” she began, choosing a direct approach rather than continuing to procrastinate in her reluctance. Fortune favored the bold, or so Virgil touted. Seylah would rather just survive the conversation intact and move on to enjoying her horse ride. She gave the horse a longing look and rubbed its forehead affectionately before she continued on, “I was jealous today.”

“Were you?”

“Horribly so,” she told him with a frown.

“I know.”

She froze, her hand pressed close to the mare’s forehead. “Pardon?” What did August mean he knew? She had collected herself before hand, she had been slighted by the woman at his side but maintained her civility. How had he known?

“Honey.” August reached out taking her hand in his. “Your face tells your secrets. Always has and I suspect it always will.”

Her hands went to her hips in frustration. He was right, she knew it, her parents knew it, why the whole town knew it. When Seylah was troubled or glad of something, there wasn’t a person who didn’t know it.

“Damned thing,” she muttered.

He laughed at her annoyed expression. “I wouldn’t call it a damned thing, but rather one of my favorite things.”

“You what?”

“Your face,” he said reaching out to rub a thumb against her cheekbone, “is easily one of my favorite things.”

“Why?”

“Because you are one of my favorite people.”

“I see.”

August hummed and raised her hand to his lips brushing a kiss against her skin. “You were jealous today, and?” He prompted.

“I didn’t care for it much.”

“I wouldn’t expect anyone would,” August replied. “I hated it when I saw you with that banker,” he said, spitting the last word out as if it were a curse.

“Elliot,” she corrected.

His eyes narrowed. “Yes, Elliot.”

“Do not tell me you are still jealous.”

He kissed her knuckles again, this time with more force. “And what if I am?”

“But I am in a courtship with you. Not him. How can you still be jealous?”

“Logic has no place in jealousy or matters of the heart, Seylah,” he said and August rolled his shoulders, blond hair catching in the light as he stepped closer to her. “I know he isn’t a threat now, but I didn’t then.”

She raised her eyebrows at that. “A threat? A threat to what?”

“To you. To us.” Blue eyes met brown in an earnest gaze that pierced her to her core. There was something vulnerable in his gaze that hadn’t been there before, not fully anyhow. “I knew when I saw you look at him that for the first time I might lose you to another. I couldn’t bear it.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“Not physically, but in your heart?” He reached up again, big hand cradling her jaw. “In your heart you would have been a million miles from me. As untouchable as the moon.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “August…”

“So, I understand jealousy. How it feels like a hot coal in your hand, tastes like bitter cold coffee you're forced to drink. It’s a dirty thing.”

“But it has no place between us.”

He smiled at her then, thumb caressing her lips. “No, it doesn't. Not if we talk like this. Even if it is hard. I aim to share my heart with you.”

“I would like that very much. I won’t keep my mind from you.” She leaned into his touch with a barely restrained sigh, her hands reaching for him. “My mother told me it was essential, if difficult to a happy home.”

“I intend to have a happy home with you, Seylah.” He touched his forehead to hers and looked her in the eyes, the effort it took for him to lower himself to her eye level was not lost on her. She was not a small woman, but August was, by and large, a tall man. Seylah smiled, lips parting against his thumb before she moved forward, tilting her face up to meet his, her fingers pulling at the material of his shirt.

“I know,” she said, kissing him soundly, if far more slowly than the kisses they had shared the previous day. Those had been born of passion, a thing of unrestrained desire and want that bore the brunt of years of quiet longing only to riotously bloom in a single moment. Seylah treasured those first intimate touches, but now she was learning the difference between lust and