“No, but that missive was regarding my sister. She is to be married to a man I believe to be wholly unsuitable for her.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The scoundrel tricked her into a compromising situation and thereby forced her hand. I had hoped to reach London in time to stop the wedding, to save her. But now...”
“I understand your concern,” Emily said, her hand reaching out to rest gently on his arm. “But perhaps there is still time. The roads are clearing, and travel will soon be possible again.”
At her touch, Nicolas felt a spark of desire course through him, his skin tingling where her fingers lingered. He looked up, his gaze locking with hers, and in that moment, he saw a flicker of something deeper, a longing that mirrored his own.
Emily, as if suddenly aware of the intimacy of her gesture, withdrew her hand, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She rose from her seat, moving toward the window, her gaze fixed on the world outside.
“The snow is melting fast,” she observed, her voice tinged with a mix of relief and sadness. “My son, Mathew, will be home soon.” She paused, her next words spoken so softly that Nicolas had to strain to hear them. “And you will be leaving.”
Nicolas stood, drawn to her side by an invisible force. He wanted to tell her that leaving was the last thing he desired, that the thought of being parted from her filled him with a deep ache. But the words remained unspoken, caught in his throat as he wrestled with the conflicting emotions that warred within him.
“Emily, I...” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I think it best if I leave at first light. My horse should have little issue navigating the remaining snow.”
She turned to face him, her eyes shadowed. “I will always treasure the friendship we have built.” She reached up to cup his cheek, her touch feather-light and filled with tenderness.
“As will I.” Nicolas pressed his cheek into her palm.
They stood there, frozen in a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, surrounded by the unspoken emotions that hung in the air between them.
His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he savored the warmth of her palm against his skin. When he opened them again, he found Emily’s gaze locked on his, the hazel depths swirling with a myriad of emotions.
Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, he lowered his head, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. She melted into his embrace, her arms winding around his neck as she pressed herself closer to his lean, muscular frame. The taste of her, sweet and intoxicating, filled his senses, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume them both.
He deepened the kiss, savoring the warmth of her lips against his. Her quiet sigh sent a thrill through him, a confirmation of the passion simmering between them.
Her fingers threaded through his dark hair, tugging gently as she matched his fervor with her own. The heat of her body pressed against his, melting the lingering cold of the winter afternoon and replacing it with a heat that burned bright and steady.
Lost in the passion of the moment, Nicolas allowed his hands to roam over the curves of her body, memorizing every dip and swell through the fabric of her dress. She arched into his touch, her own hands sliding beneath his coat to explore the planes of his back, the sensation sending sparks of desire coursing through his veins.
This is perfect, he thought, lost in the haze of passion. She is perfect.
But even as the words formed in his mind, reality came crashing down around them. The ticking of the clock seemed deafening in the silence between them, a cruel reminder that time, always the enemy, was slipping away. With a reluctant sigh, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as he struggled to catch his breath.
“We cannot,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “As much as I want this, as much as I want you, we both know you deserve better than a few fleeting moments. You deserve more than I have to offer.”
She nodded, her heart pounding. “I know.” She traced the line of his jaw with a tenderness that made his heart ache. “But for one perfect moment, I allowed myself to forget who I am.”
Nicolas pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, breathing in the scent of her, committing it to memory. He stepped back, the cold rush of air between them a stark reminder of the reality they faced.
She smoothed her skirts, her gaze downcast as she composed herself, the mask of propriety slipping back into place. “I will arrange for your horse to be ready at first light, Nicolas,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil he knew she felt. “I wish you a safe journey to London and a successful resolution to your family matters.”
Nicolas bowed, the formality of the gesture belying the intimacy they had just shared. “Thank you, Emily,” he said, his own voice carefully controlled. “I shall carry the memory of our time together with me always.”
With a final, lingering look, he turned and strode from the room, his heart heavy with the weight of all that remained unspoken between them. And as he readied for bed, he could not shake the feeling that he was leaving a piece of himself behind, forever entwined with the woman who had saved him.
Seven
Emily stood at the frosted window, her breath fogging the glass as she gazed out at the frigid night. The winter’s chill showed no signs of abating, its fury mirroring the turmoil stirring within her. Her fingers sketched absent patterns on the frosted pane, reflecting the restlessness knotting in her chest.
“What am I to do?” she whispered to herself. The thought of Nicolas, just down the hall, sent a tremor through her that had nothing to do with the chill seeping through the windowpane.
Emily turned from the window, pacing the length of her bedchamber. The soft swish of her nightgown against the rug echoed in the quiet room. Her gaze fell upon her writing desk, where an unfinished letter to her dear friend Beatrice lay forgotten.
Bea would know just what to say. Emily sighed. She could almost hear Beatrice’s no-nonsense voice, reminding her she was a woman allowed to have desires. Allowed to live her life.
The wind outside howled, rattling the shutters and strengthening the longing that had taken root in Emily’s heart. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms for warmth. For close to a fortnight, the storm had cut them off from the world, leaving her and Nicolas in a bubble of seclusion. But now that the snow had mostly melted, all of that would change. He would leave in the morning and she might never see him again.
Would she regret not having gone to him? Not ceasing the opportunity to feel his body against hers? She longed to feel alive. To have her blood burning with desire. Her body pulsing with need and cresting with satisfaction. It had been years since she’d lain with a man. Years since she had truly felt the thrill of passion.
