She could not invite him into her world, like he’d invited her into his, but perhaps here among the trees and the birds and the flowers, they could create a private world to share with each other.
He began to dance.
She fit in his arms perfectly. As though they belonged together beneath the dappled sun. As though their entire lives had led to this moment, to this space, to the joy of each other's arms.
“Youcanwaltz,” she said in surprise, then blushed. “I didn’t mean—”
“You did mean,” he said with faux sternness. “Almack’s isn’t the only place with music, you know.”
“You’re right,” she said softly. “I can feel the music in my soul, right here in the park.”
He’d been referring to Vauxhall, but her quiet admission grabbed him by the heart. There was music all around. The rustle of leaves, the babble of a stream, the warble of a starling.
Like her, he could feel it in his soul.
He wanted her to be proud of him, wanted her to be happywithhim. Not just in occasional stolen moments, but for—
“I should go,” she said with reluctance. “I’m to have a fitting for a new gown.”
“All right,” he said, and meant it. But his lips had other plans.
She was already in his arms; close enough to kiss. All he had to do was close the distance between them.
Nothing on this earth could keep his mouth from hers.
Her tongue tasted like sweet red grapes and her skin smelled of springtime. With every kiss, her lips became more familiar and more impossible to resist. It was as though their mouths belonged together, their bodies, their hearts.
How could he convince her that what she felt was important, too?
