Especially not whilst his face was mere inches from hers, and there was no hiding the direction of his gaze. He forced himself to meet her eyes and only made it as far as her lips. Also plump. And rosy. And parted, as if awaiting a kiss. His kiss.
“Well?” she asked softly. “Are you going to do it or not?”
Not. Definitely not.
Such betrayal would mean his post. She was betrothed to Hudson’s employer, for God’s sake. And to those of her circles, Hudson was nothing more than a servant. Their classes did not mix.
Even if Hudson had been born a viscount like Lord Oldfield, Hudson still couldn’t kiss another man’s bride. It was worse than ungentlemanly. It was a date to duel at dawn, and to risk his own life. If Viscount Oldfield didn’t kill him, Lady Tabitha’s father the marquess would be next in line to take aim with a pistol.
Those were the reasons why not. They were very good reasons. Wise reasons.
And right now, Hudson didn’t give a flying fig about any of them.
He answered her impertinent question not with words, but by crashing his mouth against hers. Devouring her. Offering up himself in equal measure. Giving, taking, exploding into a thousand pieces.
The kiss was everything he’d hoped and feared it would be. Bliss. Torture. He hauled her closer so that her wet bosom pillowed against his hard chest. It wasn’t merely the light brush of two pairs of lips anymore. It was a full body kiss. It was the river itself, swirling the kiss around them, dragging them deeper into the current.
He lost track of time. Lost all conscious thought. He was no longer a man, but a tempest of want and need and desire. He took a kiss for every time he’d awoken with a start, sweating and trembling and hard as stone. He took a kiss for every teasing smile, every tinkle of laughter. For every drop of water in the river and every invisible star in the skies high above.
He tore his mouth free from hers with a gasp. The loss felt like drowning. As though her lips were the oxygen that gave him life, and without her kiss he was doomed to die.
Panting, he rested his forehead against hers and prayed for fortitude.
“That… felt real to me,” she murmured.
Hudson did not answer. He didn’t have to. Nothing had ever felt more real than their kiss. To deny it would be to deny his own soul. And she knew it.
“I was thinking,” she began.
He closed his eyes. He had categorically not been thinking, which was why the bare legs of his employer’s bride were wrapped loosely about his hips, her derrière perched lightly atop his thighs as their shoulders bobbed just above the water.
“Don’t say it,” he begged, his voice gravelly with desire. “Whatever it is. We should not.”
She pressed forward, holding him a little tighter. The tip of her nose brushed his. Her smile, kissing distance from his own parted lips.
“We’re pretending to be husband and wife,” she whispered. “What if we didn’t pretend?”
“What?” he asked hoarsely.
“Just until you take me home,” she said quickly. “While we’re here. While we’re someone else. Why not live like it?”
“Lady Tabitha—”
“Just Tabitha. No more ‘lady’, please. Today and for the rest of the week, I am Mrs. Tabitha Snowfeather. Your temporary wife. In name, and in body, if you’d like to—”
Hudson did the only thing he could to stop the flow of words.
He kissed her.
This was the worst possible consequence of his rash actions. Instead of slapping his face and pushing him away, she was tempting him with a cornucopia of forbidden fruit.
His, in name and body, if he’d like that? There was nothing he wanted more. The knowledge that he was not the only one fighting the pull of desire only fanned the flames higher. He’d known for years that he wanted her. And he hadn’t the slightest clue that she wanted him, too.
Until now.
What was he meant to do with this knowledge? Kiss her, as he was doing now? Debauch her, as she requested? Live like husband and wife for one perfect, idyllic week? And then hand her off to some other man, doomed to live out the rest of his days beneath the same roof as the woman he loved and her new husband, knowing it would never again be Hudson’s lips that she kissed, or Hudson’s bed that she shared?
He broke the kiss. Broke free from her embrace. Did his best to break the spell enchanting them.
