Storms and Dreams (Becoming Jane Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

that we faced each other, nose to nose.
    “You overwhelm me, Jane,” he said, threading his fingers through my hair, kissing me sweetly, gently. “I am far gone. Undone.”
    “And that inspires nightmares?” I asked, biting my lip.
    “No.” He laughed. “But my defenses are damaged. My passions are up and hence the fortress walls are down. Really, I should have seen it coming, and prepared for it.”
    “How? By building the wall higher? Stronger?”
    “In a sense, yes.”
    “Mmm,” I grunted, not happy with his answer, but God help me I could understand it.
    “Hey.” He lifted my chin, capturing my gaze. “There’s a door. And you shall have the key.”
    “That,” I said, pushing at his chest, embarrassed, “was corny.”
    “Corny, romantic—there’s a fine line.” He grinned.
    “With you that’s very true.”
    “Do you hate it?” he asked. Propping up on his elbow, he ran his other hand up my thigh to rest on my hip. “All the Shakespeare and the flowers, and the weekend excursions to drafty post-modern houses that are prone to soufflé ruining black-outs?”
    “It’s dreadful,” I said, trying to maintain a stern tone.
    “Shall I just knock it off, then?”
    “Don’t you dare.” I grinned at him.
    He kissed me, his lips slanting over mine softly. He teased, gentle kisses that nipped at my bottom lip and sent my head swimming.
    “Thomas.” I whispered his name against his lips, and then laughed when he fell back on the bed, his arm stretched over his forehead dramatically.
    “I’m ruined,” he moaned. “You’ve ruined me.”
    “Thomas!” I pushed at him playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”
    “Oh sweet beauty, say it again.”
    “What? Thomas?”
    “Yes. That. It is my soul that calls upon my name; How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, like soft music to attending ears.”
    “Shakespeare?” I laughed.
    “Always, darling.” He smiled, looking up at me. “Forever.”
    The smile drained from my face. Forever. I felt my heart sing, and my gut clench when I heard that word. Forever, with Thomas. We stared at each other, neither of us speaking. One word had shocked us both into silence.
    The light in the bedroom changed. Dawn was rising. Warm and pink, it glittered in the air and dappled over the comforter. A shaft of light broke through the bed’s curtains, and set Thomas’s eyes on fire. They glowed, a shocking blue for a split second before he covered his face with his hands. The spell was broken.
    “Ow.” He rose, shifted to the end of the bed and snatched the curtains closed. “Stupid sunlight.”
    I laughed as he flopped back down beside me, grateful for the distraction that had saved us from a long awkward moment.
    “Thank you,” he said softly.
    “For what?” I asked, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.
    “For being you.” The heat in his eyes shot straight through me. He threaded my fingers with his and dragged me towards him, his lips crashing over my mine hard, his tongue swept in, tasting, exploring. I groaned into his mouth, my hands fisting in his hair. I clasped his face to mine, and he gripped my hips, rocking his hardness against me. I was drowning in his taste, his scent, the feel of his hands splayed across my back. Panic ripped through me unbidden. Overwhelmed, I drew back and faked a yawn.
    “Poor angel,” he purred. “You’re worn out.”
    “I am very tired,” I said, yawning again and nodding a little too vigorously. I had no idea what was wrong with me, but unease had settled in my belly like a brick and I felt a rising tide of emotion swelling in my chest. I needed some space from him, some relief, and yet I didn’t want to leave his side. Unconsciousness felt like the safest escape. “I’m sorry,” I said, my gaze flitting to his in apology. “I think I need to sleep…”
    “Of course,” he said, pulling me against his chest. He spooned my body with his own, drew the bed covers up over our shoulders and settled