“Nor do I,” she admitted.
“And Mr. Galveston, it seems, has not abandoned his suit. Did you mislead me about his intentions?”
Eliza moved her hand down Nicholas’ thigh, hearing him catch his breath. “Perhaps you might defend me from his attentions,” she dared to say, then looked at his face again.
He might have been turned to stone, so impassive was his expression, though his eyes glittered like sapphires. “Is that what you truly desire, Mrs. North?” he asked so quietly that the words were barely audible.
“No,” she admitted, feeling audacious beyond all. “I wish for you to kiss me, Captain Emerson.”
An eternity passed before he replied. “Why?”
“Because you dance as Frederick did not. I can only wonder whether you kiss as Frederick did not. He had little interest in demonstrating physical affection and I wonder at the omissions in my knowledge.” She smiled up at him. “You did offer to corrupt me, Captain Emerson. I confess that I find myself willing to accept.”
She had no opportunity to reconsider her audacity or regret her words, for Nicholas raised his free hand to her cheek, tipped her chin upward and captured her lips beneath his own.
And just as Eliza had always anticipated, Nicholas’ kiss was a marvel.
Nicholas was seduced.
He was snared.
He was a fool and a rogue, yet he could not keep himself from kissing Eliza senseless. She was so welcoming and sweet, precisely all he had ever desired—and yet a woman he never could or would possess. Even as she melted against him, encouraging him beyond expectation, Nicholas knew this passion was ill-fated in more ways than one.
Still, he could not turn away from temptation. Still, his hand slid into her hair, his other arm eased around her waist to bring her closer as he deepened his kiss. He was drowning in sensation, his heart racing when she laid her hand upon his shoulder and sighed contentment. She was utterly enticing, compliant and seductive, though he doubted she realized how powerfully she affected him.
If there was to be one kiss between them, he would make it one to remember.
Nicholas was about to end it, when Eliza opened her mouth to him and he could not believe his good fortune. When he felt the flick of her tongue, he thought he might die of pleasure and when her fingers curled in his hair, gripping it to pull him closer, there was nothing Nicholas wanted more than to bury himself within her. He would spend the entire night coaxing her pleasure, if not the next day as well, and that was the realization that ended the moment for him.
He could not grant what she desired of him.
It might have been tempting to offer Eliza a dalliance, and if his condition had been other than it was, he might have surrendered to that opportunity. As it was, he could only disappoint her and he knew his own limits.
Indeed, he felt them in this very moment. There was not a stir of response, though his heart and mind wished for it thoroughly. What more evidence did he need?
Nicholas broke their kiss with reluctance, forcing himself to move back to the other bench, across the carriage. He felt Eliza’s gaze upon him, and knew his fist was clenched, but he looked resolutely out the window, his throat working.
They were not fifty feet from Haynesdale House.
He burned for Eliza, but he could not embarrass her. He strove to recall his own carefully laid plan to secure his own future, a plan which had no allowance for a mistress or a wife, much less the conundrum of Eliza DeVries, but could think only of that kiss.
And how much he wished for another.
“Why do you not wish to dream?” Eliza asked just as the carriage halted. She might have read his thoughts and Nicholas was startled, but he did not immediately reply.
He stepped past her as soon as the footman opened the door, and offered his hand to her. Even with his awareness of the possibilities—or their lack—he could not surrender the chance to touch her gloved hand one last time. Her hand was a sweet burden in his own, one that made him regret all that had been and all that never could be.
He could give her an answer, but it would be only part of the truth.
“I spoke out of turn, Mrs. North, and I do apologize,” he said formally. He kept his tone curt, intending to discourage her questions. He did not doubt that she had many, and given any opportunity, that she would ask them. Eliza was fearless. Nicholas could not hold her gaze, keenly aware that he confided less than she wished of him.
How he wanted to give her all of her desires!
How he hated that he could not. If nothing else, he was a man who would not promise what he could not provide.
“There is no need to apologize, Captain Emerson. A gentleman always fulfills a lady’s request, by my understanding.”
“All the same, I trust that you will no longer require my presence when you chaperone my sister.” He dared to look at her face in time to see her lips part. She would argue with him and he would be lost again. Nicholas bowed instead. “Good evening, Mrs. North.” He briskly pivoted, walking down the street and into the night. He was well aware of her gaze following him.
