“I don’t know. Her actions just seem so spiteful.” Livvy shook her head, unable to explain why the maid’s behavior bothered her so much. Probably because she had attacked Dale at one of the worst times of his life.
“Let it go, sweetheart.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “There’s nothing there but pain and tragedy.”
“But that is in the past.” She replied, lifting her gaze to his.
“Yes, it is. And for the first time, thanks to you, I’m not living in it. Isn’t it ironic that it took a woman who traveled to the past to yank me away from it? I’m sure there’s a pun in there somewhere.”
Livvy chuckled. “However ironic, if I have brought you some joy and healing, I’m glad.”
“You have Livvy. That, and so much more. I feel like I’m awakening. It is uncomfortable sometimes, and scary. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“Neither would I.”
Their gazes met and held. His eyes lowered to her mouth, and her lips tingled in anticipation. She raised her face and closed her eyes, waiting. He lowered his head slowly, and his mouth brushed hers, softly at first, but inexorably intensifying.
He had thoroughly kissed her before. With passion, or frustrated anger, or possession. But nothing like he kissed her now. His lips suckled at hers, and when she moaned, he held her closer and angled his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue gaining entrance and probing, tasting.
It was the most sensual coaxing of her senses. It entranced her, stealing her mind’s ability to process anything but the pleasurable slide of his tongue against hers. The friction of his lips over hers. If his previous kisses had been a conquest, this one was a persuasion.
Not that she needed to be persuaded. She reveled in the feel of him, this man who aroused so many feelings inside her that sometimes she felt as if she was going to crack.
She slid her fingers into his hair. She loved his hair. So heavy and silky. His arms came around her, molding her to his body, and her fingers curled involuntarily, softly scratching his scalp. And the drugging kiss still went on and on.
His arms around her, his mouth on her. She rested fully against him, and still it wasn’t enough. She wanted to meld with him.
She could feel his arousal, and yet he was in no hurry to progress to intercourse. Neither was she. This kiss was a mating in itself. He poured his soul into her, flooded her with his feelings, a warm tide pulling her under.
And then something changed. It wasn’t anything tangible, but she was so attuned to his emotions that she could feel the most infinitesimal shift in him. Like a drop in temperature, cold seeped into the place where their souls had merged so perfectly for a few moments.
Slowly, he ended the kiss, and for a second rested his forehead against hers, as if nothing was amiss. But she knew differently.
With perfect aplomb that somehow seemed forced, he stepped back and said, “I should run along. I have to attend to some estate matters before we leave for London tomorrow. I will be in the study if you need me.”
“Okay.” Livvy watched him go, perplexed. What was wrong with this man? One moment he was kissing her as if he wanted to own her soul; and the next he was taking his leave and announcing in a formal tone devoid of any feeling that he needed to attend some business.
But why? Was it because of Eloise’s mother’s visit? Was he remembering his first wife, maybe even feeling like he had betrayed her for marrying again?
It was exasperating and disconcerting. But she could do nothing about that. He had to come to terms with it on his own. In the meantime, she would provide warmth, acceptance, and companionship. And try not to lose her heart in the process.
She feared it was too late for that.
