Shot Gun Grooms: Lucas's Convenient Bride / Jackson's Mail Order Bride. Maureen Child

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      She paused. “I have to respect David for being honest. David told me that my father had offered him a percentage of the company if he married me and we had children.” She tilted her head to the side. “My father was a good businessman. He wanted to make sure that David intended to make our marriage a real one.”

      Unlike theirs, Lucas thought. “So you get your negotiating abilities from him.”

      She flashed him a quick smile that nearly hid the pain in her eyes. “Yes, I did.” She returned her attention to the window. “After I learned the truth, I knew I couldn’t possibly accept David’s proposal. He tried to change my mind, to tell me that we were good friends and wasn’t that enough. But it wasn’t. I was still young and foolish enough to believe there was more available to me.”

      Lucas felt awkward hearing about her past. He didn’t want to know that she’d been wounded by the people most charged with loving her. He didn’t want to know that their short marriage of convenience was something similar to what she’d been offered before.

      “Once David and I broke things off, I knew I had to leave,” she said. “There aren’t many options open to an unmarried woman, so I took a teaching position to allow me time to think about my future. Over the past year or so, I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to open an establishment for women, as we’ve already discussed. And that, Mr. MacIntyre, is my entire history.”

      He didn’t know what to say about her past, so he chose something more simple to comment upon. “So you won’t keep the hotel once you have the funds you require?”

      “No. Depending on how successful I am, I’m planning to stay here two years, three at most. In the meantime, I’m sure I’ll enjoy my work. There is the appeal of my future plans, not to mention the fact that this floor is entirely mine to do with as I please.”

      “I’d prefer you didn’t burn down the place.”

      She turned to face him. “I will do my best to avoid that circumstance. But you are missing the point. As a man, you’ve had many homes that are entirely yours. But as a woman I first lived with my family, then rented a room in an attic. I could never come and go as I wished. People watched, judged, offered opinions. Now I am entirely an independent woman.”

      He considered her words. “I’ve never thought that women don’t have the same freedoms as men.”

      “Why would you? Your life is not one of restriction and rules.” She waved a hand. “There are laws, of course, but I’m not speaking of the freedom to commit a crime. I simply want to be in control of my life to the extent my abilities will allow. I do not want to be controlled or dictated to because I am a woman.”

      Lucas had known from the moment he’d become aware of her existence that Emily was a spinster. She was probably twenty-five or twenty-six, which wasn’t so old that she had to give up the possibility of marriage, but old enough for everyone to know that she’d been passed over. He’d known other spinsters in his life, but he’d never once thought about their fate. Society didn’t care if a man waited to marry, but he could see that it was particularly cruel to plain, unmarried women. Without skills and resources, those women had to rely on the whims of fate and the goodness of their families for their very livelihoods.

      Emily had the advantage of brains, education and determination. Many others would not be so fortunate.

      He nodded slightly. “I’m proud to be a part of your plan, Em. If I can help make the hotel a success, I’ll do what I can.”

      This time her smile was genuine. She pressed her fingers together. “You’ve already done so much, sending your men to help me get the rooms ready, agreeing to let me be here in the first place. I do appreciate that.”

      Sunlight drifted through a crack in the drapes. It caught the side of her head and added a golden luster to her tightly drawn back hair. He had a sudden desire to know how far her hair tumbled down her back and what it would feel like in his hands. Would it be thick and heavy? Was there any kind of curl or wave?

      Her skin was very lovely, he thought, moving his gaze to her face. Her eyes were wide, her mouth full. When she wasn’t standing all stiff and looking disapproving, she was nearly attractive. Almost pretty, in a stern sort of way.

      He noticed that she had delicate bones more suited to soft fabrics and feminine styles, not the thick wools and serviceable dresses she favored. If she would try a different color of clothes, or loosen her hair a little.

      “Lucas, what on earth are you thinking? You have the most peculiar expression on your face.”

      “You don’t want to know,” he said, compelled to take a step toward her.

      He was going to kiss her. He didn’t know why and he thought he should probably stop himself before he got started. Yet he didn’t want to stop himself. He wondered what her lips would taste like and how she would feel in his arms. It was idiocy. Worse, it was stupid and, with Emily’s spinster sensibilities, potentially dangerous. However they were married and this was his wedding day. Was it so wrong to expect his bride to be willing to offer him a kiss?

      Before he halted himself with a dose of good sense, he stepped toward her and placed his hands on her waist. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. She was as still as a carving. Before she could change her mind and dart away, he drew her body against his, lowered his mouth and pressed his lips to hers.

      * * *

      Had Emily known what Lucas was about she would have stopped him. At least that’s what she told herself in the single heartbeat of conscious thought she had between the time he put his hands on her person and when he, well, kissed her.

      Then his lips were on hers and she was too confused to think or speak or even breathe. His mustache tickled…in the most charming way. He was touching her waist. Despite her layers of clothing, she could feel the heat of his fingers clear to her skin. His thumb slipped up and down, sending the oddest skittering sensation rippling through her torso. But even more strange than that was the feel of his kiss.

      It was more gentle than she would have imagined, had she been the kind of woman who thought of such things. Like his hands, his lips were warm and almost—she struggled to find a word, which was difficult because her brain was so fuzzy—almost tender. Soft and lovely, yet firm as he moved against her, brushing back and forth.

      She supposed she should have been horrified and insulted. She should have stepped back, and she would in a moment or two. But as this was her first kiss, she thought she should understand the entire act before deciding that she didn’t like it.

      She could feel the heat of his body and inhale the masculine scent of him. There were fragrances of different liquors and a bit of smoke, plus something spicy and intriguing, quite unlike any smell she’d inhaled before.

      His hands moved around to her back and slid up toward her shoulder blades. His action forced her more firmly against him and suddenly they were pressing from shoulder to…to limb! Her arms, which had been resting at her sides, suddenly stiffened. All of her stiffened. A chaste kiss was one thing, but such intimacies as these were completely unacceptable.

      She was about to tell him so when he did the most extraordinary thing. He touched the tip of his tongue to her lower lip.

      Had anyone described such a thing to Emily, she would have been horrified and disgusted. The thought of it should have made her stomach turn. It was just too…

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