A Necessary Deception Read Online Free PDF Page A

was the first time she’d been open and trusting with him. It didn’t last though, as she straightened herself against him once more. “I still have some time to f igure something out.”
    “We have time to figure something out,” he gently corrected, noting how it eased the stiffness of her stance but not the conflict making her lips draw together in a thin line.
    “I told you, I don’t need your help.” It wasn’t as forceful a declaration as it’d been earlier today. Her defiance was weakening, and it gave him as much hope as the flush of her cheeks and the nervous play of her fingers on the ribbon of her dress.
    He cupped her face with his hands and the heat of her tender skin against his made his chest catch. He kept his touch light, waiting for her to pull away but she didn’t. Uncertainty marred her round eyes as she gazed up at him, the fight between her desire to trust him and to push him away clear in the way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. They stood achingly close to one another and yet as far away as if he was still in Spain. "You're a strong woman Mary, I don't doubt it, but a strong person also knows when to ask for help. Please, let me help you."

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
     
     
    Mary curled her fingers around his wrists, wanting to pull his hands off but she couldn't. The excitement and carefree wonder of their night together echoed in every flicker of his pulse against her fingertips. It summoned her to him like a bell in a fog did the boats to the shore. For the first time in too many years, the echo of the happy young woman she’d once been sounded again. She wasn’t gone and he could coax her out, if she let him.
    “Do you remember the last time we were here, when I told you my fears about my sister and my men?” His tone was low and smooth like the rumble of casks against the taproom floor.
    She nodded, not trusting her voice enough to answer.
    “Tell me what’s wrong with you. Not the debts or the pub or your mother, but you,” Charles urged, his tenderness as heady as his nearness.
    “Th-there’s nothing wrong.” It was difficult to surrender to his gentle entreaty, and to open up to him as she’d done before. It was clear he cared for her, deeply, but so had her mother and it hadn’t stopped her from scorning Mary and giving the pub to Paul who’d betrayed them.
    Charles isn't Paul . He'd shown John affection where Paul had ignored him. He'd risen to her defense when he could have left her to fend for herself. He’d tried to win money not just for himself but for her and their son. She’d been foolish to push Charles away. He would have helped her if she’d let him, as he wanted to now. If she’d allowed it then maybe the last three years would have been different. If she trusted him tonight, the next few might change as well, and for the better.
    “I’m afraid,” she breathed, her voice trembling like her entire being as she at last revealed the truth, the one she’d hidden from everyone, including Aunt Emily.
    “Of what?” He stroked the line of her jaw with his thumb, the gentle pressure reaching deep inside her to melt the frost which had covered her for so long.
    “Of being wrong about myself, the pub, and you,” she admitted, more vulnerable than if they were standing together naked.
    He didn’t laugh or dismiss her concerns as her mother had done. He didn’t try and reason them away as Aunt Emily often did. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. She laid her head on his chest as his wide hands stroked her back, and closed her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart and reveling in the comfort and peace of his embrace.
    “You’re not wrong.” His words vibrated through his chest and hers, soothing the last of her doubts.
    She leaned back, the eagerness in his eyes as strong as the one in her heart. “I see that now.”
    She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his in a kiss as light as the morning mist.

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