She should be with her sister, ensuring that she was feeling well and was taken care of.
She should be inside, performing hosting duties as Mary was most certainly not feeling up to it.
She should be preparing refreshments for the many people who were currently congregating within.
She should not be kissing Duncan McDougall. Certainly not here in the middle of the street, where anyone could look out any one of the many front-facing windows and catch the two of them in the midst of it.
But at the moment, she wasn’t sure how she could possibly tear herself away.
Her fingers bit into his muscular biceps, feeling the strength coursing through them. He could lift her and carry her off likely with hardly any effort at all. He was the very epitome of power, which should scare her.
For the problem was, as much as Jane was well aware that the last man she should ever develop feelings for was the one who had once been betrothed to her sister, she couldn’t help the fluttering in her stomach whenever he was near, nor the way she seemed tuned to his very presence whenever he entered a room, nor the thrill that tingled down her spine when he whispered in her ear.
And now as he kissed her… his lips were hard, firm, and unrelenting as they pressed on hers. Jane had been kissed before, but never like this. Duncan’s stubborn obstinance may have proven to cause her more than her share of annoyance over the past couple of days, but she could no longer complain about the fact that when this man set out to do something, he did it with purpose.
He lifted his hands to cup her face, his fingertips threading into her hair, and despite the chill in the air around them, his hands were warm, heat coursing through them and right into her very being.
He placed gentle pressure on the side of her head, tilting it to the side, which Jane realized provided better access. She was startled when his tongue touched the seam of her lips, and when she opened to him, it swept into her mouth, and she emitted an involuntary gasp at the shock.
A noise that was akin to a growl rose from the back of his throat, and Jane sank into his arms, seemingly losing all her breath as she was surrounded by his very essence. His scent filled her, his touch thrilled her, and his presence overwhelmed all rational thought.
As Jane lifted her hands around his neck and pressed herself in close to him, all she could think was more. More of this. More of him. More than she had any right to want.
Jane nearly forgot where they were, what they were doing, and who might see them, until she felt a tap on her leg.
She pushed back and away from Duncan so quickly she almost fell, but he reached out a hand and caught her.
“Miss Jane?”
It was one of Billy’s nieces, who was currently looking back and forth between Duncan and Jane with a curious expression on her eight-year-old face.
“Amelia!” Jane exclaimed, her cheeks now flaming despite the cold. “What are you doing out here, sweetheart?”
“Auntie Mary was looking for you,” she said, her nose already turning red. “I saw you out the window, so I came to find you.”
“Thank you, dear,” Jane said, pressing her fingers to her lips as though that would erase the child’s memory of what she had just witnessed. “We are coming in in just a moment. Mr. McDougall and I have to… talk about something.”
Amelia nodded and ran back toward the house, although she stopped for one final look behind her before pushing the door open.
Jane paused for a moment, willing the courage to be able to look up at Duncan. When she finally did, she almost wished she hadn’t, for his lips were trembling as though they just might break into a smile.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “that was—”
“Rather inopportune timing,” she finished for him, and his thick eyebrows winged up in surprise.
“I thought you would have a rather different opinion,” he said gruffly. “I was ready for the speech about how this was all a mistake.”
“It if was a mistake,” she said slowly, cautiously, “then I would have ensured it had never occurred in the first place.”
With that, she turned and re-entered the house. For if she stayed, she didn’t want to think about just what else this man’s presence might cause her to do.
Duncan would never have thought it possible to avoid a person while living together in a house as small as that which Billy Miller owned.
But it seemed that Jane was completely capable of doing so. For the two days following their kiss in the street outside the window, Duncan had hardly seen her. He had followed her back inside the house, and as they were basically ignored by all within, he had been of the impression that they had gone unnoticed — with the exception of little Amelia, of course.
It seemed that Billy’s brother Nick had spent a great deal of time watching Jane, and had not been shy about conversing with her whenever he found the opportunity.
Duncan McDougall was many things, however, and one of them was belief in his attractiveness to women. He knew that when Jane looked at him, there was a spark in her eye and a bashfulness in her posture that was completely absent when in the presence of any other man. He had felt the touch of her lips on his and the innocence of her tongue, and had recognized the response of her own desire.
Which was why he had been particularly intrigued by what might next occur between them.
But so far, nothing.
To be fair, Jane had been spending a great deal of time with her sister. Mary was having a particularly bad bout of illness, Billy had told Duncan that evening as they sat together after dinner. The two of them would certainly never become fast friends — they were far too different from one another, notwithstanding that Billy had married Duncan’s fiancée — but nevertheless, they had developed a certain ease around one another. There was also an understanding that the two of them were, in essence, on the outside of the close bond that existed between the sisters.
“You know,” Billy began tonight as he passed Duncan a drink. Duncan had to concede that the Englishman did have a fine selection of alcohol. “You should think about what you will give Jane for Christmas.”
“Pardon me?” Duncan said, choking at the thought as he took his first sip while Billy spoke.
“A gift,” Billy repeated. “We often give them to our loved one at Christmas. I thought perhaps Jane would like something.”
“Why ever would she want something from me?” Duncan asked, raising his hands in the air, palms up, and Billy looked at him as though he were daft.
“If you do not think she would expect something from you, then so be it,” Billy said with a shrug, “but she might like it.”
“She and I…” Duncan began to deny it to Billy, but found that he couldn’t actually form the words. For he rather liked the thought that the two of them were considered to be together.
“You get on well, do you not?” Billy said, leaning forward in his chair expectantly.
“We hardly know one another,” Duncan finished, although an idea began forming in his mind, one that he didn’t care to share with Billy.
“But—”
His words were cut off when a knock sounded on the door. Billy and Duncan exchanged a look before Billy rose to answer it.
Duncan heard Billy’s exclaim before the chorus began.