“And what did you say?” Again, there was a coolness in his tone.
“I told him if he wanted such an arrangement, he should wait because of Courtney. I’m afraid I told him about her.”
His only response was a touch. A seductive slide of his warm finger down her spine. “I think he should be prepared before he arrives in London.”
She let out the breath she was holding and sighed. “I thought so too.”
He kissed her neck. “Now, what was that you were saying about passion?” He handed her a block of soap. “Turn round.”
She loved the command in his voice and as she turned to face him; she lathered up her hands, eager to feel him beneath her fingers. He lifted one arm, and she washed it, marveling at the strength within the velvet steel muscles. She swapped to the other arm and gave a gasp as his soapy hands found her breasts. His fingers tweaked her nipples and heat arrowed down between her thighs.
She returned the favor, washing his nipples before leaning in and licking them. She loved the shiver that ran through him. “I can’t wash the rest of you underwater.” He gave her a smile that would tempt a nun and rose like a god from the water. With her on her knees, his manhood hung directly in front of her. She lathered her hands before cupping him and then wrapping her hand tightly around him. He went rock hard at her touch. He groaned and wrapped his hands in her hair.
The power she had over him in this moment would live with her forever.
He seemed to swell further into her hand. She leaned one hand on his rock-hard thigh, only to feel the tremors with each stroke of her hand on his cock.
Suddenly he lifted her, pulling her into his arms, and still dripping wet, he laid her on the bed and came down on top of her. “You’re playing havoc with my honor. I want to sink inside of you so badly.”
“I want that too,” she said as she reached between their bodies to wrap her hand around him once again.
“So, you agree to marry me?”
She stilled beneath him. “What has one got to do with the other? I thought we agreed to sneak me home under the rise of titillation regarding Lucien returning home. There is no need to sacrifice yourself.”
He pushed up onto his arms above her and looked down at their bodies. “I will not take your virginity unless we marry.”
“Do you say that to all the women you bed?”
“You’re not any woman, goddamn it. And I don’t make a habit of deflowering young ladies. You’re a young lady who is the daughter of a duke—a friend. I shouldn’t be bedding you at all. But I can’t seem to resist you.” Then he took her lips in a searing kiss. She kissed him back before turning her head away.
“I want to marry for love. I desire a large family. I want to have the kind of relationship Tiffany has with your brother. I want it all.”
Rockwell rolled off her to lie by her side, his breathing ragged. “I can’t give you what you want.”
She turned on her side to face him and put her hand over his heart. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Does it matter?”
He covered her hand where it lay over his heart. “I am not like my brother. I don’t have it in me to be the man you want. I’m far too selfish. I have—so much I want to do with my life. How can I love you when I know I’ll leave you? You’ll never know when and if I’ll be returning. It isn’t fair to you or me.” He squeezed her hand. “If we marry, I can offer you the protection of my name, my time when I’m in England, and financial security, but I can’t give you anything else.”
At least he was being honest with her. She felt all hope shrivel and die. He didn’t want to love. Yet he knew how to. It was clear in the way he pursued finding Lucien. And in how he cared for his sisters, especially Ashley. And in the way he respected her. He just wanted his freedom more than he wanted her.
She rose from the bed and sat on the rug by the fire, a blanket wrapped around her and used her fingers to attack the tangles in her hair.
He joined her. They sat side by side, their skin drying, the heat from the fire keeping the chill at bay. The silence was not uncomfortable.
He turned to face her. “I’m sorry.”
She pushed his fringe off his face. “I respect your honesty.” She pressed a kiss to his lips, and he caught it and deepened it. Soon they were wrapped around each other and the kiss became almost desperate, as if they both knew this would be the last time they would be together like this.
The magnificence of his nude body took her breath away. The muscles of his chest and torso rippled and flexed, and her fingers longed to trail every inch like the shadows from the fire dancing over his naked skin.
Her eyes roamed over him in a thorough assessment, taking in the hard contours, the robust swell of his arms, the flat ridge of his abdomen, the flesh, thick and rampant between his legs—she committed it all to memory.
His mouth, hot and moist, licked the space between her breasts, sending heat searing to her very core. Farah gripped his shoulders as he licked and kissed, whipping her into a frenzy. When his delicious mouth grazed one jutting nipple, she arched more. He parted his lips and took the puckering bud into his hot, wet mouth, and she arched off the floor. Nothing had ever felt this amazing. The pleasure was almost more than she could bear. Every nerve ending screamed for more.
Turbulent emotions came bubbling to the fore. All her feminine instincts took over, and she found the courage to slide her hands over the skin she’d been hungering to explore. It was firm, hard, yet sensual.
