“I do not consider you an adversary, Damien,” she admitted softly.
Far from it, in truth.
Those additional words echoed in her heart, but she forbore speaking them aloud.
“That is good,” he murmured. He seemed as if he would say something further, but instead he silently reached out to brush his thumb over her cheek with a gentle touch, startling her enough by his action that it was all she could do not to tip her head into the caress of his palm.
In the next instant his fingers swept back, cupping her face and taking, in effect, the very action that she had longed to commit herself. This could come to naught, a voice inside her whispered. Sweet heaven, it couldn’t, but his touch upon her felt exquisite, sending a tingle of sensation from the back of her head down to her toes.
Of their own volition, it seemed, her hands lifted, one of them coming up to rest lightly against his ribs and the other moving up his arm to his shoulder, as she slid by memory into the familiar contours of his embrace. They both paused, then, holding very still, and Alissende wondered if Damien was as surprised as she was at how easily they had fallen into this pose again. He had not lowered his hand from her cheek, and though it filled her with guilty pleasure to do so, she closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling and not daring to look at him for fear that she would be lost completely if she did.
For a long moment neither spoke; they just stood there, with no sounds audible other than their gentle breathing. When she could bear it no longer, she at last opened her eyes, only to feel the heat inside her bloom anew with the realization that he was staring down at her with that same expression she had seen in his gaze on the night of their feigned wedding feast.
Heaven save me from a certain fall…
“As long as the terms of our temporary union require us to spend this time together,” Damien finally said, “behaving by all appearances as a newly married pair, perhaps we should endeavor to try to…enjoy each other’s company more fully than we have been doing.”
“As a newly wedded pair,” she echoed, mesmerized by the delicious tension winding ever tighter between them.
“Aye, that is what we are supposed to be.”
He ceased speaking then, but his head lowered a bit, and then a bit further, his chin tipping down as if he was readying to kiss her, by all the angels and saints…
Through the flood of sweet confusion that knowledge unleashed inside of her, Alissende somehow retained sufficient awareness—and spirit—to slow his progress by whispering, “We are supposed to appear as such to others, is that not correct?”
“That is the idea,” he murmured, his mouth hovering so close to hers, now, that she felt the teasing warmth of his breath on her lips as he spoke.
“But there is no one in the chamber now, Damien. Except for us.”
That made him stop altogether. Frozen to a halt, with his lips so close to hers that she could almost taste his kiss.
Ah, but she yearned to press forward, to accept without question that tempting caress. But her doubts and bruised emotions begged her to be strong, to resist him if she could. Her heart was pounding so that she thought it might leap from her chest as he pulled back just enough to look at her.
Another bolt of heat shot through her at the frustrated passion smoldering in his gaze. Yet in the space of another few breaths, amusement softened his expression, followed hard upon by reluctant acquiescence.
He would not pursue this further. For now, at least.
The phrase echoed in her mind, reminding her that Sir Damien de Ashby had never been the type of man to give up anything without a fight. And she knew that she would need the aid of more than heaven’s angels or saints should he decide to make her the focus of his attentions in this way.
“I concede your point, my lady,” Damien said at last, though his husky words sounded like anything but surrender. His mouth quirked into that sensual half smile that never failed to make her stomach feel as if it were dropping to her toes. “Instead, I will raise the second topic I wished to discuss with you here today.”
Alissende found that she needed to swallow before she could speak, to ease the dryness in her throat. “Is it tied, perchance, to what you were saying just a moment ago?” she asked a bit croakily. “For if it is, I must ask you to release me before we continue—lest I be unable to continue,” she added under her breath.
“In a way it is connected, aye.”
He still looked as if he was up to something, though he stepped away from her after a few more delicious moments and moved back toward the window. She waited for him to expand on this second topic he’d mentioned, studying him through slightly narrowed eyes as she attempted to determine where he was going with this and why.
“It involves the two of us working together toward the common goal of thwarting Lord Harwick. However, our success will require you to undertake what many would consider an unorthodox pursuit.”
Well, if that didn’t sound like something she should avoid as if her life depended upon it. Knowing Damien, it likely was, and she couldn’t quite prevent the flare of excitement that swept through her at the prospect of hearing his proposition.
“What is it?” she asked, with as much caution as she could muster.
“It is to engage in a special kind of instruction with me. The sort that will aid you in protecting yourself against Hugh’s intimidation, should the need arise again. You and I will both rest easier knowing that you possess some means to defend yourself in the future.”
After you are gone from my life again, only this time forever.
The words taunted Alissende, but she pushed them aside, focusing on her initial reaction to his suggestion.
