“The law is slow and stupid.”
Marigold snorted with inappropriate laughter, and Lily joined her, holding her hands as though they could sustain the moment for longer, capture the fleeting joy before the realities of their lives—a looming divorce battle, an absent husband—pushed in.
“I haven’t heard you laugh like that since we were girls,” Lily said, handing the tray of caramels back to Marigold. “If that man makes you happy, I say enjoy him for as long as you can. Because the rest of the world waits for you tomorrow.” Her gaze lifted, and she nodded. “And I should be off, as your Goldilocks approaches.”
Heat rushed to Marigold’s cheeks. “He’s not mine.”
“Enjoy him anyway,” she whispered with a wink as she backed out of the room towards the kitchens, fluttering her fingers in farewell.
“Are you a friend of the countess?”
Marigold spun to face Archie, the flush high on his cheekbones making his eyes sparkle. “In a sense. Are you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “We just met tonight. I like her.”
She smiled and held up the tray. “Me too. She gave me these.”
“Do you still want to run and hide to eat them?”
As she nodded, the knot in her stomach shifted, the tendrils morphing into anticipation and excitement as the fear receded. “I’ll lead.”
Archie let out a whoop more appropriate for the rugby pitch as she took off down the hallway, close on her heels as candies flew off the tray and bounced off the walls, carpet, and Archie himself. The last door on the hall led to a cozy room, and she glimpsed shelves of books and a single mullioned window before Archie pushed into the library behind her. Together they slammed the door shut and she threw the lock, then they dissolved into laughter, the tray of candies falling to the floor between them with a clatter.
His arms bracketed her again, his forearms on either side of her head and his lips ghosting against her neck as her breath stuttered. Her blood was effervescent, her nerves crumbled into pleasure at being the center of his attention. She’dneverfelt this need before, the all-encompassing desire to touch and be touched. Certainly not with the marquess. Briefly she wondered if something was wrong with her, if the single glass of wine had left her senseless, but as a slow smile crept across his lips and she grinned in return, she remembered what her sister had said.
She deserved pleasure. While she barely knew him, she was certain Archie was safe. And after tonight, she’d never see him again.
What was there to lose?
“I hate to say this,” he murmured, “but I don’t think we have much of a future in thievery.” He pulled a caramel from his shirt pocket and tugged off the waxed paper wrapping with his teeth.
She whimpered as her core pulsed with sudden need, the inescapable desire to allow this man to bring her pleasure, give her everything she’d been denied for years.
He must have heard her desperate sound, because his eyes flared as he lifted the caramel to her mouth, and her lungs stopped functioning,everysystem in her body ceased working so she could focus on the way his pupils dilated when her lips parted, how his breath hitched when her teeth sank into the soft candy.
She endeavored to contain her moan in her throat, but his eyes flashed, his chest heaving.
“How can I get you to make that sound again?” He leaned in, one hand moving to her hip, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh. “Besides run down the hall for all the caramels you dropped, because then I’d have to let go of you, and I’ll be damned if I do that.”
Her legs became liquid. He barely touched her, merely the brush of his lips and the span of his hand, and she craved him everywhere,everywhere, with a fervor she’d never known before.
“Why?”
He scoffed, but his smile siphoned the heat from it. “Why? Because I’ve never met someone like you. I want to know everything about you.” Her chest seized—she was holding so much back from him—but he continued.
“Tell me this feels different for you,” he pleaded. “That this is destined to be somehow. Do you feel that too?”
No words came to her—how could they, when what she had experienced tonight went beyond anything she had known orimagined, that she’d beenseenfor the first time in her adult life? That she wasn’t ready to give up this connection, even if it was wrong, even if she could never keep him.
So she kissed him. Properly, like she’d always dreamed kissing could be, but had never experienced. Whatever trepidation clung to her evaporated as his mouth molded to hers. He grunted low in his throat, deepened the kiss, his hands on her hips squeezing and flexing. When her tongue touched his lips, Archie made an approving sound and moved closer, his hips pinning her against the door.
His tongue slid against hers and her breath caught, the sensual glide overwhelming her with the taste of whisky, caramel, and the musk that was decidedly, uniquely him. How she identified that having only known him a few hours, she did not know, but whatever alchemy made him so appealing to her senses had her restless, aching,craving.
“Archie,” she gasped as his mouth left hers.
His lips traced a path of fire down her throat to where he sucked on her pulse point, making her knees buckle. Any words she forced to her lips faded into a moan, her hips seeking the ridge of his arousal pressing against her belly. She wanted him,neededhim in a primal way, something powerful and animal that he’d unleashed and she hardly understood. “P-please…”
“What do you need, sweetheart? I’ll give you anything. Please let me make you happy.” He kissed her as he spoke, as though he were so desperate for her he wouldn’t even pause long enough to complete asentence.
