“Michael?”she whispered.She’d never used his first name before, always distancing him with his rank.
“What?”
Touch me again.Kiss me.She didn’t say it, the words caught up in a trap of her own morals.And yet, she didn’t want him to leave, as he surely would.
She didn’t know what was coming over her.Perhaps it was the wine.Perhaps her desire to make her own decisions.All she knew was that she didn’t want to be alone.
“What if...I asked you for more than a kiss?”
Michael held so very still, she wondered if she’d made a grave mistake.Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as the silence stretched longer.
“I’m not the right man for you, Hannah.I can’t ever marry you.”
His honesty was meant to quell her desire.But she’d always known there could be no future for them.And he didn’t love her, either.
“I know that,” she heard herself saying.“It’s not what I want from you.”She held her posture erect, as though it would keep her sensibilities from crumbling.What would it matter if she let him kiss her, let him show her the mysteries of a forbidden liaison?Her reputation was already in shambles.
She stood an arm’s length from him, but an invitation rested in the space between them.Michael took a step closer until she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her forehead.The physical closeness of him turned her thoughts erratic.
Her body tingled, imagining his body atop hers.Never in her life had she known such an experience.The weight of her gown upon her breasts, the heavy skirts covering her legs...It made her uncomfortable, as if too many layers separated them.
He caught her palm and grazed it with a slight kiss.“You’re not yourself.”
“You’re right.”She pulled his hand to her cheek, not caring that it was wrong.The need to rebel was rising higher with each moment.“I have exactly fifteen hours to not be myself.Before we leave this ship.”
His hand drifted to her back, and she felt his bare palm upon her skin.He loosened a few more buttons, sliding his hand beneath the back of her gown.
This was her last chance to say no.Did she want to ruin herself with a soldier?With a man who had no future and could not take care of her?With a man who made her heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird?
Yes.
Hannah reached out and rested her hands upon his evening jacket, tracing the breadth of his shoulders.Before she could talk herself out of it, she lifted her mouth to his in a defiant kiss.He tasted of champagne and a hint of almonds.
That was the last thought in her mind before he took command.He pressed her against the wall, his hot kiss possessing her with no chance of escape.She was aware of his hands unbuttoning the rest of her gown.In turn, she removed his jacket, untying the cravat.
“I loathe women’s fashion,” Michael gritted out.Despite her layers of skirts, he managed to reach beneath them to untie a few of the petticoats, and divest her of the heavy crinoline.Without the weight to support her gown, the fabric hung down.She felt small, completely at his mercy.He undressed her, each piece falling away until she was standing in her undergarments.
The reality of her decision hit her like a bucket of freezing water.Why was she casting aside all of her inhibitions, everything she’d been taught, for a man who had already admitted he could give her no future?
He is nothing, her mind insisted.
He is everything, her body contradicted.Only hours ago, someone had tried to kill him.The thought of losing this man, when she’d only just begun to know him, crept into the spaces of her heart, making her ache.And tonight, he belonged to her.
The war between her body’s needs and her mind’s agonizing control was growing even hotter.
His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and her breasts grew taut as though he’d kissed the nipples.Between her thighs, she grew moist, and Hannah shifted her legs together.No one had ever prepared her for this, and she was too afraid to ask him what was happening.
Michael extinguished the lamp, flooding the cabin in darkness.“Come here,” he urged, taking her hand.He guided her toward him, and when she realized he was seated on the edge of the chair, he pulled her onto his lap, straddling him.
Her womanhood was intimately pressed against the hard length of his arousal with only her drawers and his trousers as a barrier.She clung to him, her fingers pressed against his hair.
In the darkness, her skin became even more sensitized.She didn’t know what he would do next, and it both excited and terrified her.
Michael slid his hands into her hair once again, and the pins scattered across the wooden floor.His fingers spread through the silken locks while he kissed her.
Her hands rested upon his chest, and he sensed her desire to touch.He loosened his shirt, moving her hands beneath the cambric.His pectoral muscles were rigid, his pulse rapid.Bare skin warmed her fingertips, and her bravado was beginning to disappear.
“Are you certain you want this?”he murmured, kissing her deeply.
