It simply was.
Elements colliding.
Her gaze fell to his mouth, the remembered feel of it against hers—firm… possessive… capable…
Oh, yes, this man was certainly capable, and her body demanded to know what more he was capable of.
They stopped a few feet from one another, firelight catching the sharp angle of a cheekbone, the strong line of his jaw, the blond streaks in his hair…the intention in his eyes… A shiver traced through her, and she felt suddenly awkward and shy of him. He was all man, and she wasn’t sure what to do with Ravensworth the man.
But one fact was certain: he knew precisely—deliciously—what to do with Delilah the woman.
He reached out, and without hesitation, she allowed his long, masculine fingers to twine through hers. No question that she wouldn’t. He pulled, and the distance between them closed as she swayed forward, sand shifting beneath her feet, sliding between her toes. His other hand closed about her waist, and her head tipped back, their mouths—mouths that had touched only hours ago—inches from each other. All she would have to do was lift onto the tips of her toes to—
He shifted closer, but his mouth cut left and found the whorl of her ear. “May I have this dance, Lilah?”
Lilah… She was Lilah, and he was Seb.Tonight.How seductive an idea…
“Yes,” she whispered, breathless, against his neck, catching his scent.Citrus and cedar. Something else, too.Sweat.From building the bonfire, no doubt. A complex, musky scent that provoked a response—the elemental pull that was becoming quickly familiar. Now that she was able to see it, she was coming to grasp it.
He pulled her closer, and she pressed herself against the hard, unyielding length of him. As their feet began to move, she knew why, for she’d seen the proof only this morning. Muscles that bulked his arms and shoulders, chest and stomach, thighs and calves. She’d heard Archie mention Ravensworth’s penchant for the boxing ring, and here beneath the hand that rested on his shoulder she felt the consequence of that pursuit.
She gave a reflexive squeeze, and humor lit within his eyes. “Like what you feel?”
Her mouth opened, poised to speak the truth.Yes.She very much liked what she felt.
Or did she?
Because she felt with more than her hands.
A feeling had been coursing through her for days now—a feeling of restlessness and want and need—that he’d provoked, and she wasn’t sure she liked it at all.
Because it was he who provoked it.
The man she’d long considered her nemesis.
How could she possibly like it?
And yet…
She suspected she did.
Matters as they stood could no longer hold between them.
“I need to know,” she found herself saying into the space between their mouths.
“Yes?” rumbled from him.
“Why did you do it?”
*
Sebastian didn’t needto ask Delilah to clarify the question.
She wasn’t speaking of their kiss.
Or the interlude beneath the stage.
She was speaking of Eton.
