“Indeed,” he agreed, his eyes searching hers for a moment longer before releasing her hand.
As Skye’s heart continued to race, she couldn’t help but wonder what this newfound connection with Lord Greenwich truly meant—and whether it would be strong enough to weather the storm brewing around them.
“Bradford,” she began hesitantly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “There is something I must confess.”
“Please,” he urged gently, his eyes filled with concern and curiosity. “You may speak freely with me.”
Taking a deep breath, she looked into his blue eyes, finding both solace and trepidation within their depths. “Since our meeting here, I have found myself quite... affected by your presence.”
“Affected?” he repeated softly, his own heartbeat quickening in response to her admission.
“Indeed,” Skye continued, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. “I cannot deny there has been a growing... connection between us. One that both excites and frightens me.”
“Skye, my dear,” he murmured, his tone low and husky as he stepped closer, bridging the gap between them. “I too must admit my feelings for you have grown stronger with each passing moment we’ve spent together.”
His confession sent a shiver down her spine, and Skye’s gaze moved to his lips as they curved into a warm smile. “And what might this mean for us, Bradford?”
“Truthfully, I am uncertain,” he replied, his honesty endearing him to her even further. “But I know I wish to explore these feelings, to see where they may lead.”
“Even if doing so leads to scandal?” Skye questioned, her eyes meeting his once more, searching for any hint of hesitation.
“Especially then,” he responded without pause, giving her a roguish grin, his determination clear in the unwavering intensity of his gaze. “This pull I feel toward you is too strong to deny.”
As the last syllable of Bradford’s bold declaration lingered in the air, Skye found herself entranced by the depths of his eyes, her heart pounding wildly within her chest. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, each one more dizzying than the last. Yet, in that singular moment, all she yearned for was to feel the warmth of his embrace.
“May I?” he whispered, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes as he sought her permission.
“Please,” Skye breathed, the single word carrying the weight of her unspoken desires.
No sooner had the word passed her lips than Bradford leaned in, bridging the scant distance between them. His breath fanned warmly against her cheek, teasing at the delicate wisps of hair that framed her face. And then, their lips met in a tender and passionate kiss, the sensation igniting an unfamiliar fire within her very soul.
Lost in the exquisite taste of him, she felt her fingers tangle in his golden locks, drawing him ever closer as their kiss deepened. Their bodies pressed together, and she could feel the heat emanating from him, searing through the layers of fabric that adorned her form.
“Skye,” he murmured against her lips, the sound of her name on his tongue sending shivers down her spine. “You have bewitched me utterly.”
“Bradford,” she replied, cherishing the intimacy of using his given name. “There is no turning back now, is there?”
“None,” he agreed, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes.
Is it possible? Skye mused, her heart swelling with hope even as doubt nipped at the edges of her thoughts. Could there be a future for them? Regardless, she wanted him and would take what she could for now. “Your being here, in my room. It is a monumental risk.”
“Sweet Skye, have you not heard?” he teased, his breath hot against her ear. “I am no stranger to defiance, and I would gladly challenge the stars themselves if it meant a chance to hold you in my arms.”
“Oh,” she whispered, sealing their fate with another searing kiss. As their lips danced in perfect harmony, Skye dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, they could indeed defy the world and find true love amidst the snowflakes and shadows.
The room seemed to shrink around them, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced in tune with their racing hearts. Skye’s fingers remained tangled in his hair as he began a slow exploration of her body, his hands and lips steering her skin.
“Bradford,” she sighed, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat. As his hands roamed over the curves of her waist and hips, she felt a familiar fire consuming her from within. It was a flame born of passion, fueled by desire, and fanned by the tender yet insistent touch of the man before her.
“Skye,” he murmured in reply, a question in his tone, seeking permission for their shared journey into the depths of desire.
“Yes,” she breathed, granting him all that he sought—and more. For as much as fear and uncertainty clawed at her, Skye could not deny the intoxicating allure of this newfound passion.
His lips found hers once more, his kiss deepening as his hands continued their gentle exploration. He traced his fingertips along the curve of her hip, up her side, and along the soft swell of her bosom. The delicate fabric separating them offered little resistance against the heat of his touch; it was unlike anything she had experienced before.
As his lips trailed down her neck, each heated kiss leaving an invisible mark upon her skin, Skye’s breath hitched in her throat. Her thoughts raced, a whirlwind of emotions and fears battling with the undeniable pull of the man who held her, posing a real danger to her heart. She had cared for her late husband, and enjoyed their marital bed sport, but never had she felt such intensity. Such a deep connection.
“Is this truly what you want?” she asked, her voice quivering with the weight of her uncertainty.
