“I must apologize for keeping you and for prying into your past.” Her voice was cool now. Perfectly polite.
But there was a brittle quality lingering beneath that he did not miss.
He had hurt her feelings. Embarrassed her. Chased her away.
And all because he did not dare trust himself enough to resist her.
“You have no need to offer apology,” he hastened to assure her. “We are husband and wife now.”
Although they were not living as husband and wife. Nor would they for some time. That rankled more than it should.
She shook her head. “I ought not to have intruded.”
“It is your right.”
“I had not expected to find you…” Her words trailed off as her gaze swept down his form. “I had not supposed you would be naked.”
Despite the dampness of his smalls and trousers, the effect of her brown-and-gold stare on him was undeniable. He could only hope she would not take note. “I will endeavor to swim in something more suitable next time.”
“You do not have to on my account.”
There was that persistent desire, boiling hotter still. He should turn his back to her, continue dressing, carry on with his day. However, the connection between them remained. He did not want to see her go.
“Are you saying you liked what you saw?” he teased.
Yes, he, who was as hardhearted as his surname Stone implied, was teasing. Flirting. Standing there with the woman he had not wanted to marry, bare-chested and barefoot, daring her to admit she had enjoyed the sight of him nude as he’d emerged from the lake.
More foolish behavior. More recklessness. He scarcely recognized himself.
“I am,” she admitted softly, a small smile curving her kissable lips. “You are quite a handsome man, as I’m certain you are already aware.”
She thought him handsome. It was not as if Hudson had not known women found him pleasing in appearance—he had never lacked for feminine companionship. But somehow, hearing it from Elysande mattered in a new and different way.
She was his wife.
It was still startling to look upon her and think that word. To comprehend the utter change in circumstance.
“It only matters that you find me so,” he told her. “You are uncommonly lovely yourself, Elysande.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze slipped from his. “I should leave you to your morning rituals.”
She turned to go, severing the moment.
“Elysande,” he called, his legs propelling him toward her as if they possessed a will of their own.
She spun about and came rushing back to him. They collided with more force than he had anticipated, and he snaked an arm around her waist to steady them both. She reached for him, rising on her toes, and sealed her lips to his.
* * *
She was kissing her husband.Her mouth was on his. And he…
He was kissing her too. Slipping that full lower lip of his between hers, angling his head, deepening the kiss.
Elysande could not even blame her actions on wine. She hadn’t touched a drop of the stuff since the Sauternes of the evening before. No, she was kissing Hudson because shewantedto. Because when she had rounded the grouping of trees on the path by the lake and seen him, tall and masculine and utterly naked, striding from the water, she had been entranced. Her heart had leapt. An ache had bloomed between her thighs and spread to every part of her body.
Longing.
Desire.
