Sarah's Surrender (Novella) Read Online Free PDF Page A

and hot summer days.
    Laugher. Tears. Kisses so hot the soles of his boots began to melt. Her long hair wrapped about him. Her soft breasts pressed against him, pale in the moonlight, the dark tips begging for his kiss.
    Kiss.
    Kiss.
    Kiss.
    God, the woman could kiss. They’d started almost soft this time, but now tongues danced and lips sucked and consumed. He could eat her alive—if she didn’t devour him first.
    Heat. Passion. Fire.
    He was burning from the inside out.
    His cock rose hard in his breeches, pressing into the sweet softness of her belly.
    He needed to be in her.
    His long fingers rose to the top edge of her dress, playing with the stiff lace, trying to push it down, trying to find the nirvana that so beckoned him. The tight fabric refused to budge. He yanked, harder. It descended barely a fraction of an inch.
    His concentration moved to her lips again; they were easy, pliable, giving, offering all to him. So sweet. Too sweet.
    She was moaning beneath him, small sacred sounds that filled the emptiness within him.
    He pressed his lips harder against hers. She was his. She’d always been his.
    Mouths moved furiously, wanting more, needing more.
    Her small hands moved up his back, sliding under the tight weave of his jacket. He wanted them on his skin. He just wanted skin; the feeling of damp skin pressed to damp skin, the wonder that only came when flesh met.
    His hands cupped her breasts again, longing to feel her softness, but finding only the stiff fabric and scratching lace. He curved his fingers under the lace—pulled, hard. He would not be defeated.
    An almost deafening tear sounded.
    It was probably almost inaudible, but in his ears it echoed endlessly.
    He pulled back, and stared down with cold eyes.
    —
    She was lost, so lost. This is what she had dreamed of for years. Jonathan’s touch, the sensation that nothing in the world mattered beyond this moment, this second, this minute. She could have stayed here an eternity, never wanting anything but this touch, this kiss.
    There was the sound of a brief tearing and suddenly she could breathe more easily, but it hardly mattered. Her whole world was Jonathan—and only Jonathan. Strong hands holding her tight, lips devouring, and—and him, just him. How had she lived all these years without this?
    A sudden cold breeze.
    His lips left hers.
    His hands pushed her away.
    What?
    She blinked. And blinked again.
    And stared up into icy, unforgiving eyes. She’d been here before, five years ago when she’d said no and he’d turned from her friend and lover into a nightmare.
    “Are you trying to trap me?” His voice was brittle.
    She could only blink one more time, her mind not understanding. “What?”
    “Are you trying to trap me?”
    “Trap you?” What was he talking about? Five years ago she’d understood her crime, now she was without a clue.
    “The dark garden. A dress designed to tear. Is your father about to appear? Perhaps with some great lady of society? I should warn you, I will never be trapped.”
    “I don’t think a bolt of lightning could separate Papa from the card room if he were occupied—although as it happens he is not here this evening. And even if he were, I doubt any great lady would spend time in his company. I am here with my Aunt Sadie, my mother’s oldest sister. I am not sure she can walk far enough to come to the garden.”
    Jonathan continued to glare down at her, not looking convinced.
    “And as for my dress, what do you mean designed to tear? If there is one thing positive I can say about this dress it is that it has no tendency to rip. The fabric could probably be used to haul about bags of coal and it would emerge unscathed.” Her own anger was beginning to rise to meet his coldness. She had never wanted to trap him, never wanted that which he did not freely offer. This whole idea was absurd and always had been.
    “I do apologize then. If your dress was not designed to rip then I am sure it has not.”
    She