TALES FROM THE TREASURE TROVE, VOL. II
Sapphire’s Wager
By Nancy Pirri (Dame Sapphire of Jewels of the Quill)

He lounged in a chair behind a desk, one that dwarfed hers at the schoolhouse. She took a tentative step toward him and, lifting her chin, moved another step closer, until she saw him clearly. He sat forward in his chair, elbows on the desk, fingers steepled beneath his chin. In the shining lantern’s light she caught his eyes glittering with amusement.

She realized then, once she got over his innate masculine presence, he required reprimanding. Her words sounded very much like an old maid spinster school teacher when she said, “Good Lord, it seems after all these years you still have no manners, Patrick Falconer. Didn’t your mama ever teach you to stand when a lady enters a room?”

His lips twitched as he slowly rose to his full height and his head grazed the ceiling. He leaned back slightly and spread his legs, a devastatingly devilish grin lifted his lips. “You have not changed a bit. You’re still prickly as ever.”

“You’ve the distinct ability to make me behave that way,” she snapped. She glanced around the cabin then met his eyes again. “Have you no other chair available?”

He laughed and sauntered around the desk, stopping directly in front of her. She found herself staring at his shirt front. It was then she noticed he wore no tie or waistcoat but a full long-sleeved white shirt that contrasted dramatically against his swarthy complexion. She looked lower. Black woolen pants clung to his narrow hips and heavy thighs, between them an enormous bulge. Her mind and heart started racing and heat swept through her body as she wondered what it would be like to have this man make love to her. Ridiculous thought! I’m here to talk sense into the reprobate. 

She stifled a gasp of surprise when he placed a fist beneath her chin and raised it to meet his dark-eyed gaze that seemed to be searching deep into her soul.

“I’ve a more comfortable place for us to converse than a chair.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips.

From beneath her lashes Sapphire saw his grin widen just before he kissed her limp hand. She frowned, realizing the man hadn’t changed a bit; he was still too charming and she didn’t trust him, based on the fact he and her brother had tricked her far too often in the past.
When she attempted to pull her hand from his he tightened his grip then pulled her over to the bed where he pressed down on her shoulders until she sat. He sank beside her and she popped up to her feet. He laughed and pulled her down again. 

“Come, the evening grows late and we’re wasting precious time,” he murmured. “You’re on my timepiece now.”

Sapphire snapped, “Spoken like a true gentleman.”

Patrick wound an arm around her waist.  “Be still. You’re nervous as a bride on her wedding night, for God’s sake. I’m not going to touch you, unless you want me to.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. “Truly?”

He nodded. “Of course, if you don’t acquiesce, you shall hand over your inheritance to me. I got the distinct impression from George today that you weren’t willing to do that.”

She sprang up again and started pacing the floor. “Why in the world would you want to bed me, Patrick? You’ve been like a brother to me.”

“A brother?” he said, leaning back on his elbows. “Oh, far, far from familial feelings do I feel for you, sweetheart. I’ll be frank and confess that for the past ten years I have thought of nothing but bedding you.”

 

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