Slave To Love
Chapter Twelve
The western fields were abloom with wildflowers. The rainbow of colors scattered about the ground swayed in a gentle breeze coming from the east. Closing her eyes, Tara breathed in the collective scent of the blossoms, allowing it to wash over her as she knelt down and began to pick them.
Bobby watched from a little ways away, a small smile curling at his lips as he laid out the blanket underneath a large, shady maple tree and began to unpack the basket that had been prepared for them. Chicken, bread with a delicious butter and garlic spread Tara had concocted, cheese; it was a light lunch, but he was going to make sure it would be unforgettable.
Tara had been welcomed into the Hudson home two years prior; a servant girl who'd been cast out of the only home she'd ever known when the elderly master had passed and his dreadful son had taken over the home. She'd lived on the streets for a month or so—she still wasn't certain since the days had all run together—until she'd been so desperate that she'd had to resort to stealing.
Unfortunately, she'd tried to pick the pocket of the wrong man and Bobby had seen it all.
He still remembered the sight of her dirt-caked clothes and face bumping into Jack's arm and her petite and nimble fingers slipping into his jacket pocket. It had all happened so quickly, but she'd apologized before quickly slipping away, Jack's billfold neatly tucked under her arm.
Of course, when Bobby had brought the entire ordeal to his friend's attention, Jack had been lenient, realizing that she hadn't had much of a choice. And then he'd made the proposition for her not to work for him, but with him. She hadn't been able to turn the offer down, no matter how wary she'd been about this seemingly kind Lord.
Yet, Jack Hudson was just as kind on the inside as he looked on the outside. Humanitarianism had been ingrained in him from a young age. He hadn't been able to turn her away and more than she hadn't been able to accept.
Since that day, Bobby had watched the girl blossom into the woman she'd become. She was intelligent and spirited and the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And he couldn't help but admit that for all the time he'd known her, he'd given a piece of his heart to her each and every day.
"Looks delicious," she commented with a pixyish grin. She settled down beside him with two baskets filled to the brim with all different kinds of flowers.
Clearing his throat, he went back to his task of plating up the food and handed her one. "Smells it too." Using a butter knife, he swiped a bit of the garlic spread over some bread made freshly that morning and took a large bite. "What's all that for?"
Picking off a piece of chicken, she popped it into her mouth with a shrug. "Just something to spruce up the house and maybe a make a few new soaps."
"Ever the crafty one, aren't ya?" He chuckled at the slight blush that graced her pale cheeks.
"I didn't think you noticed." Bobby looked at her in confusion and watched as the color infusing her cheeks deepened. "Did I just say that out loud?" He nodded and she shoved a chunk of bread into her mouth large enough to keep her errant thoughts in her mind where they belonged, ducking her head in embarrassment.
Swallowing the last remnants of food in his mouth, Bobby set aside his plate and reached out to touch her. The softness of her hair was the first thing that he recognized. They were like strands of golden silk; soft and smooth and would probably be heavenly to run his fingers through. Tucking it behind her ear, his thumb brushed against her cheek causing her to look up at him, her gray hazel eyes wide.
"There isn't much that I don't notice about you, Tara luv."
Heat infused her entire face until it felt like it was completely on fire. She wished there was a pond nearby so that she could cool herself off. Bobby's touch was so gentle and tender, something she'd never expected from the usually gruff farmhand. She knew that wasn't who he usually was. He had a kind side to him that few were allowed to see. She just never expected to have it directed at her.
His hand trailed across her chin until it lightly cupped her, angling her eyes back up until he could see himself reflected within them.
"Bobby…" What could she say? His tenderness, his kindness… it was all too much for her. While there might have been a bit of tension between them in the beginning, to say that she'd fallen in love with the Australian was and understatement. Bobby Manning owned her heard completely, but seeing it reflected back at her was a bit much. She couldn't find the words to convey that.
"Shh," he urged as his head descended, its destination clear.
Tara held her breath in anticipation. She was afraid to move, to even blink. She feared that if she did, she would discover that this had all just been another dream and she would wake up once again cold and alone, aching for this man's touch.
As he inched closer, her eyelids fluttered closed of their own accord, her breath escaping her in ragged breaths. She trembled when his breath mingled with hers, but didn't pull away. She'd been wishing for this for years and now that it was so close to happening, she wanted to prove to herself that this wouldn't end up as just another unrequited dream.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered to her as he brushed his lips along her jaw, purposely missing their mark. She whimpered with disappointment and it was a sound that clenched at his heart and set his entire body on fire.
He'd intended to go slow. She deserved a slow and tender pace, but the more he tasted the sensitive flesh of her chin and neck, the more he knew he couldn't wait.
"Bobby," she pleaded and that snapped the last thread of control he possessed. He'd wanted this woman in his arms for years and now he was going to have her. Cupping her head firmly in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers.
Sparkling lights flashed behind their eyes as an unknown energy passed between them. Pulling apart, they started at each other in surprise.
"What was that?" she asked.
He shook his head, a grin pulling up at one side of his mouth, his breath coming out in gasps. "I don't know, but I'm willing to investigate if you are." He leaned forward again, eager for the soft, supple heaven of her lips moving under his once again, but a hand to his chest stopped him.
Tara shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. "No. Not that." There was the distinct sound of a twig snapping in the distance. "I don't think we're alone."
