Hank’s words, with the sound of his voice, soft and resonant. Desire was rising from somewhere deep inside her and radiating outward in waves that left her weak-kneed.
He’d opened the top buttons on her cotton shirt. It was an outrageous liberty, she thought, but she was powerless to stop him. She wanted to feel his mouth on her breast, and when his lips finally grazed along the soft flesh that swelled from the cup of her lacy bra, she shuddered.
“Should I continue?” he asked.
“Yes.” She could barely say it, barely hear her own words over the pounding of her heart.
“She perfumed the tips of her breasts…” he said, improvising wildly.
His large hand covered her, molding her to fit his palm. She was soft and full, and he thought he would burst with love. And if he didn’t burst from love, he certainly was ready to burst with passion.
He’d thought ahead, and he knew there was only one place left for Eugenia to put the damn perfume. If Maggie allowed him to put his hand there, it was all over.
Then he thought of Elsie, puttering around downstairs in the kitchen and wondered why he’d ever started this.
Maggie had also thought ahead. “Stop,” she whispered. “Stop now.”
He sagged against her. “You ever seen a grown man cry?”
Maggie giggled from nervousness. “It’s not that bad.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“We have to talk.”
“Uh-huh.”
She splayed both hands on his chest to put some room between them, but he wouldn’t move far.
“I’m going to be honest with you. I’m very attracted to you. It wouldn’t take much for me to fall in love and do something foolish, like go to bed with you.”
“Why would that be foolish?”
“I’m not like you. Falling in love would be serious for me. It would be painful. It would be disruptive.”
A crease formed between his eyebrows. “What makes you think it wouldn’t be for me?”
“I think your outlook on life is different from mine.”
He held her by the shoulders and gave her a small shake. “You don’t know anything about my outlook on life. You don’t know anything about me. You only know the stories. Give me a chance, Maggie. Look for yourself.”
“I don’t want to give you a chance. We have six more months of cohabitation. I don’t want to make that any more awkward than it already is. Even if you were the right person for me, this wouldn’t work out. Skogen is another Riverside. I’m the prime topic of conversation for the entire town. I’m crazy Maggie Toone all over again, and there probably isn’t a man, woman, or child within a fifty-mile radius who isn’t waiting to hear about my latest outrageous act.”
“You’re wrong. You’re not crazy Maggie Toone. You’re crazy Maggie Mallone.”
“I don’t want to fall in love with you.”
“Fine. Do what ever you can to try to prevent it, but I don’t think it will help.”
He released her and took a step back. “And what about me? It’s too late for me, Maggie. I’m already in love with you.”
Disbelief quickly replaced the initial surge of joy. “I suppose that’s your problem.”
“Wrong. It’s your problem, because I intend to do what ever is necessary to get you to love me.”
“Wasn’t it just last night you told me you weren’t going to put any moves on me?”
“I changed my mind.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I don’t know. I started out wanting to comfort you when you were crying, and I ended up trying to seduce you. About halfway through, it became obvious that I wasn’t going to be able to hide my…feelings.”
Maggie smiled. “You have a point. Your feelings were pretty obvious.”
“And you’re wrong about Skogen. It’s a nice place to live. I think you need to get to know some of the people here. They aren’t so bad. They like to gossip, but there isn’t anything mean in it. It’s just recreation. We don’t have a movie theater or a shopping mall, so folks around here spend their time passing along false information.”
“I don’t know if I want to meet any more Skogenians.”
She knew she didn’t have a good attitude. After all, she had an obligation to fulfill as his wife.
“Okay, I take that back. I want to meet the locals. What did you have in mind? I hope it’s not another dinner party.”
“There’s a dance at the grange Friday night.” Did he just say that? He hated dances.
“A dance?” Her face brightened. “I love dances. What kind of a dance is it?”
Damned if he knew.