It hadn’t been the staccato pitch of shock or offense. Quite the contrary. It had been a low, aching noise. As if he were yearning for…something.
What, exactly? She wasn’t sure, but she knew she could give it to him, if she chose to. Jane’s heart began to race again.
That sound was for me.
She dared a glance over her shoulder. Eli stood rigid and tall, except for his head, which he was obliged to duck slightly under the low threshold of the archway. She could see the muscle in his jaw working from here.
She was imagining it, surely.
But she heard that moan again, echoing through her memory. She hadn’t imagined that. It stirred a low, dangerous heat in her belly.
Me. He wants me.
At least right now, in this moment. She was the one who was beautiful. Desirable.
Eli cleared his throat, though he still didn’t look at her as he broke the silence. “I’m sure it will stop soon. Rain that comes up this fast tends to clear fast.”
His voice sounded strange. Too tight. He seemed to have forgotten that he’d already said something much like this when they first arrived.
“Yes. You’re probably right.”
Jane had a decision to make. She could pretend that she hadn’t noticed the look on Eli’s face before he’d turned away, or the way his breath had picked up speed. They could make strained conversation until the storm passed and then head back outside as if nothing were amiss. She would hold on to this memory afterward, perhaps pull it out from time to time and wonder what could have happened if things had been different.
Or she could do something very reckless.
No, not so reckless as all that,she reasoned quickly. Nothing that would have any lasting effect or divide her attention from her club. But she could allow herself a few minutes to explore this, couldn’t she? It would be such a small risk.
How do other women do these things?
Had Cecily reached out and touched Eli, or had she merely invited him with her words and let him do the rest?
No, she wouldn’t think of that now. This was her own time.
Jane released her hand from the coat, so that it fell open once more. She felt as exposed as if she really were naked.
It was no good. He wasn’t even looking at her.
She took a step toward Eli. There was so little room in the archway, one step was all they needed to be practically touching. Her legswere trembling. She wasn’t sure which was more frightening—the possibility that he might reject her, or that he might not.
He was as soaked as she was, the fine linen of his shirt clinging to the muscles and contours of his body. He looked every inch like a man in the service, driven hard by the demands of his ship and the struggle against the elements. More muscular than he’d been when he’d left England.
She reached up to rest a finger against the wet fabric plastered over his arm. One finger only, that was all she dared. Her throat had gone dry.
He jumped at her touch.
“What are you doing, Jane?” His voice was barely a whisper, but it made her tense.
“I—I’m not sure.” No, that was all wrong. She should be confident. She forced herself to meet his gaze, and the hunger she found waiting in his eyes did a great deal to restore her nerve.
He wanted her. She wasn’t wrong about this.
“I think I’m going to kiss you,” she said. She had just enough time to watch Eli’s eyes widen, and then she did it.
For a terrible second that seemed to hang in the air forever, he was frozen against her, unyielding. Then his lips parted, and suddenly he was coaxing and teasing her. Tracing her lower lip with the tip of his tongue, pulling her deeper. It happened so fast, she scarcely knew what to do. But the brush of his mouth on hers triggered an aching hunger. His hands clutched at her waist, twisting the fabric of the gown, as if in frustration. He made that sound again. Louder this time.
For me.
She didn’t want it to stop. He surrounded her. His scent filled her lungs—something woodsy and green, but with an edge of salt that reminded her of the sea.
