Miss Abigail's Beastly Beau by Maggie Dallen (amazing books to read TXT) 📕

and so impossible to resist. He could feel his willpower giving way in the face of that look.

His mind was scrambling to remember why he’d put a distance between them. For a second there he couldn’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t cross the small space between them and pull her into his arms.

Why on earth wasn’t he supposed to kiss her? Every instinct told him that was what he should do. It was what he was born to do.

She took a step closer and he tensed, muscles ready as if for battle.

He was doing this for her. That was why he couldn’t kiss her.

Even if her smile was turning undeniably knowing, her gaze glinting in triumph with the knowledge that he loved her.

And he did love her. Heaven help him, he loved her more than he could bear. She was more important to him than anything...even his own happiness.

That thought finally had him back on solid ground, his mind once again functioning—to some degree, at least. “Abigail.” His voice held a note of warning as she slowly kept moving toward him. The door was still open at his back and for a moment he didn’t want to shut it.

He needed it for his escape.

She flashed him a wicked grin, as if she could read his mind.

“You can read,” she said again. This time as if she was informing him of something of great significance.

“Mmm.” His noise of agreement turned into a hum of wariness as he shut the door behind him and then backed up until his heels hit the wood. “I didn’t mean to lie to you—”

“But you did, in a manner of speaking,” Abigail said. The more rattled he felt, the calmer and more patient she seemed to become.

It was maddening.

It was...alluring.

Curse it, he wanted to kiss her so badly his whole body ached from the wanting.

She stopped short when there were mere inches between them. When she was so close he could smell her sweet, heavenly scent. When he could see the happiness shining in her eyes because...she knew.

Oh curse it. She knew.

His shoulders slumped a bit and her lips tugged upward again in response.

“I’m waiting, Caleb,” she said, a teasing tone lightening her words. She knew she’d won. His Abigail was a cat toying with a mouse.

He shouldn’t have found that so fetching, but there it was. She was adorable when she was smug. He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here, Abigail?”

Her lips pressed together, no doubt to suppress a laugh, and the result was a sweet little dimple on her left cheek.

He made a sound of impatience and she laughed. “Fine. I came to pick up the toys that you’d made for me.” She arched her brows. “As payment for your reading lessons.”

He flinched. But she wasn’t done.

“Mr. Laslow let me in.” Her tone was too mild. A forewarning of what was to come. “He was here to get your signature on the deed to your new house.”

She all but shouted that last bit and a muscle in his jaw ticked in frustration. Laslow. He was going to murder that nosy, big-mouthed fool.

Abigail clasped her hands before her demurely as she batted her lashes up at him. “Tell me, Caleb. Why did you buy this cottage if you are so set on returning to a life at sea?”

He had nothing. Not a single excuse came to mind. He now understood precisely how it felt to be weak. Never in his life had he been this defenseless. Not as a child sold to pay off a debt, and not even when he’d been wounded and close to death.

That was nothing to this. It felt like his Abigail had sweetly and patiently sawed through his every defense until she’d burrowed into his chest right alongside his heart. She held it in her hands...and she knew it.

When the silence grew too long, she shifted closer until her skirts swished against the fabric of his pants. So close he could reach out and touch her.

So close he could have her in his arms and never let go.

He clenched his fists to keep from doing just that. He steeled his muscles and set his jaw.

“Do you want to know what I think?” she asked, her voice so mild it would make a grown man quake if he had any sense at all.

“Hmmph.” It was the best he could manage.

“I think that you love me.”

The words gutted him with their truth. Her guileless, steady gaze held him in place as the words slayed him. She waited, as if waiting for him to deny it. But he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t.

After a heartbeat, she continued. “I think you love me, and you were pushing me away for my own good. Am I right?”

Again. She waited and he could only stand there and stare. Helpless as a child.

Her voice softened and her eyes grew infinitely tender as she rested a hand to his chest again and pressed, as if she could feel everything that was in his heart. “Am I right, Caleb?”

His insides quaked as he tried to hold on to reason. Tried to do what was best for her. But it was useless. How could he refuse when the woman he loved was here, asking him for the truth?

The fight was over. He was done for.

For the first time in his grown life, he’d lost a battle.

And he’d never been more relieved.

He didn’t think. Instinct took over. Next thing he knew he was reaching for her and pulling her into his arms, crushing her to him as if he could make her a part of him, keep her in his life by sheer force.

Her arms wrapped around him and she buried her face against his chest. He felt the hot wet heat of tears as she clung to him just as desperately as he held her.

“Am I right, Caleb?” The calm was gone. Her voice was high and tight, filled with emotion.

He leaned back and she