He wanted to be his best; for her, to make her feel safe and cherished, but it was more than that. With her, he saw the world more clearly, as if everything suddenly made sense.
What was that but love?
To feel complete peace in another’s company?
But he couldn’t force her to place her future in his hands, nor force her to have faith that he’d do all in his power to protect her. He couldn’t force her to love him.
Was it worthone more attempt, to walk up to her right now and beg her, again, to listen to what he had to say?
To do so in front of Seton would doubtless result in being dismissed immediately, with no choice but to leave the site come morning. Not that he cared about that; he’d long outstayed his welcome under Seton’s employ. But leaving this place would mean leaving Onora.
Do it! Tell her you love her. Before it’s too late!
A few steps across the lawn, he stopped in his tracks.
Seton did not merely have his arm about Onora. They were facing each other and…
The shock of it hit Jack full in the gut.
The two of them were kissing.
Onora showed no sign of struggle. Rather, she was standing entirely still, letting Seton embrace her.
She’d made her decision.
Onora swayed,giving herself over to the kiss, suspended in a place that was beyond her mind or body.
The voice was with her again.
Surrender to sensation. Revel in pleasure. Forbid not, where nothing is forbidden.
It took great effort to return to herself, hearing again the merrymaking and the rhythm of the music, feeling the desert breeze. Feeling, too, the heat of Seton’s body. With her free hand she managed to push against him, creating some small space between them. Her other still held her glass, though there was no champagne remaining.
Had she drunk it all? She couldn’t remember.
Staring into the bottom of the crystal, she noticed something strange—a residue, pink in color, and granular. There had been something similar in the drink Madame Auvray had brought for her, back in her room. She’d assumed it was the remains of a sugar cube, doused in cassis or some otherliqueur; now, she wondered…
“More champagne?” Seton summoned one of his staff who carried a bottle wrapped in fine white linen.
“I’ve had enough, for the moment.” She held her hand over the rim. “I’m feeling…not myself.”
It was as if she were becoming a whole other person or, rather, as if there were two of her—one sensible and the other quite wild—each struggling for supremacy.
“I’ve a headache coming on. I must stop spending so much time in the sun.” Onora hoped the lie would be convincing. “You won’t mind me retiring?”
“Leave us? I think not.” Taking her glass, Seton made sure it was filled and replaced in her hand. “As for too much time in the sun, an elegant-necked bird has told me you spent a large portion of the day in a cave with that young nephew of mine.”
Onora froze.
What did Seton know? And who had told him?
“Don’t look so terrified, my dear.” Seton stroked her arm lightly. “Some would say Iought to punish you, but I understand your impulses. You’ve been using him to teach yourself about passion. Now you’re ready for the real thing.”
She made some murmur of denial, but it was unconvincing, even to herself.
“I should have liked to be the first, but I’m not so archaic as to believe a woman’s value lies entirely in her maidenhead. Now, her ability to free herself, to embrace her sexual nature—that is to be admired!” Seton had guided her with his touch, so that her back was to the others. His caress brushed the outer curve of Onora’s breast. “The Ancient Egyptians had a better way of viewing these things. Recall the paradigm of Egyptian femininity, Isis, is said to have had intercourse with her brother Osiris in the womb.”
Onora could not read the look in Seton’s eye. He seemed utterly relaxed but there was an alertness in him that gave her pause, as if he might leap like some beast and pin her to the ground.
