“Don’t leave.” He grabbed her hand.
“Are you mad? We can’t be caught like this. Not only for the obvious reasons, but because we will never be invited again, and my brother will want to know specifically why.”
“We’re engaged. It doesn’t matter.”
“We’re not really engaged, so it does matter. We can’t compromise each other. There is a future after this where you may want a spouse, as will Sam and your sis—”
He tugged her close and covered her mouth with his hand. “Just be quiet for a moment. I know all those things. I know all the stakes. I just wanted to be alone with you to calm myself beforeIdid something daft and broke his hand for touching you.”
Amelia drew in a breath. Her lips twitching against his palm, even gloved, made the act feel intimate. She nodded in understanding, and his hand fell away. He was being jealous and possessive for real. He felt those emotions because of her. She didn’t know what to do or say with that information, so she remained still and silent as their breathing filled the space of the alcove. He still held her hand. She was suddenly very aware of her body and how close they stood—how just shifting her weight from foot to foot could bring them closer. He was a looming shadow, but he did not frighten her. She wanted to reach out and touch him.
Her feet ached still, and when she tried to roll one ankle to take the pressure off her heel, she lost her balance. She fell against him, and his arm came around her.
“Sorry,” she said. “My feet are still sore.”
His head bent near her ear, like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Amelia turned her head toward his, mistaking the distance, and her lips brushed his chin. She hadn’t meant to, but then he swooped in, catching her mouth, groaning quietly into the kiss as his arms brought her tightly into him and her head tipped back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Graham knew thiswas wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He’d lit a fuse with that first kiss, and he’d been steadily burning ever since. Amelia both pushed and pulled at him in so many different ways, and a man could only take so much. Her eyes followed him, her touch lingered, and her voice softened when she said his name.
Somewhere between Alston falling off the horse and this moment, he’d lost his mind.
He dragged his lips over hers more forcefully than before, parting the delicate seam and taking that first sip of the glory inside. She opened her mouth, and he took more. He’d take everything she gave him.
He reminded himself that this charade would eventually come to an end. It had to end, one way or another, with Alston alive or with Alston’s death. He could not keep this volatile, exasperating, remarkable woman. He could not live the rest of his life feeling so... unraveled.
Her tongue touched his, timid, soft, and hot. She made a little sound, and he stiffened all over, his cock tightening his trousers. She was molded to him; she would feel it; she would know howbadly he wanted her, and he would have no excuse, no words in his vacant brain, to deny what his body so readily craved.
Graham groaned, his mind creating visions of her here, right now, against the wall right behind her, lifted in his arms, legs around his hips as he covered her cries of passion with his mouth.
She answered, moaning so softly that it was only for him. He broke the kiss, trailing his tongue down her neck. Her fingers dug into his hair, and her head turned to the side, giving him more tender skin to taste. Now she squirmed, pressing closer. He slid his thigh between her legs and reached for her hips, lifting her to her toes, and rocking her. She let out a little cry as she bucked against him, the folds of her dress a hinderance between them. His cock throbbed for her beneath his breeches.
He dragged his teeth down her neck, cursing this blasted dress and its modest neckline. He wanted to lick her breasts and leave marks all over her delicate skin, but he’d already reached the frilly ruffle of her neckline, too far from the valley of her breasts to take her into his mouth.
He lightly bit the curve where her neck met her shoulder, and she shuddered. He buried his face into her neck, bracing himself for what he was about to do next, to shed the very control that made him who he was—a gentleman, a man who lived by his word. That would all come to an end when he lifted her dress and did every imaginable wicked thing he could think of doing in this alcove at this ball.
“Oh, Graham, don’t stop, please,” she whispered achingly.
Her words stunned him back to sense.
What was he doing? How had he—they—? He lifted his head, stepping back and letting go of her.
She slumped back against the wall, panting and needy. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not going to take you in an alcove during a ball. I am not that man, Amelia. Not with you, not with anyone.”
Her hands were shaky as she stared at him, clasping them together at her chest, like she was cold without his arms around her.
“So you’ve decided you don’t want me? You dragged me to this alcove, and you kissed me. But now you’ve changed your mind? And what am I supposed to do? Just accept that?”
He ran his hand through his hair, pulling at the roots, hoping that the pain would sober him. “Yes. We can’t be doing this.”
“And yet we did. What does that mean?”
“I’m sorry, I... I crossed the line. I got caught in the moment, the jealousy, and I didn’t think; I just acted.”
She drew in a breath. “Go away.”
