Samantha wasn’t sure how to interpret such a response, so she waited.
He glanced up at her, pushed off from his position against the stone wall, and reached out to take her hand. His touch was warm, comforting, and immediately soothed her. She expected him to say something, but his lips didn’t part. Rather, he lifted his other hand and smoothed his thumb across her lower lip, caressing it. His hand traveled down her jaw to her neck, then back up as he cupped her cheek, his thumb drawing a lazy circle she felt vibrate through her entire body. Her lips parted to ask a question, but he stole the words from her much as he stole her breath as his lips captured hers. His hand at her cheek trailed down to her neck, and he gently pulled her in closer while his wicked tongue caressed her lower lip, making her lose all train of thought. His other arm encircled her waist, pulling her into his body tightly as his lips continued to make love to her mouth, teasing, tempting, devouring. She cared not that anyone could look from the Kilmarin windows and see their display of affection.
She cared not that people passing on the main road could look past the gate and see their romantic embrace.
All that existed in her world was the warmth of his arms, the feverish intensity of his kiss, and the insistent need inside her that demanded more.
He tasted her fully, swiping his tongue just past the barrier of her lips, dancing with her tongue before retreating, only to perform the erotic dance once more. She leaned into his frame, her fingers tracing up his arms till they intertwined behind his neck, pulling him closer.
She didn’t think he could ever be close enough.
Her fingers wandered up the back of his neck and were lost in the glory of his slightly curly hair, so irresistibly soft. His kiss intensified, and she wantonly pressed her lips into him, instinctively acting, though she hadn’t a clue what it meant.
He let out a low groan and released her lips, pressing his forehead against hers while his breathing came in short gasps. “And this is why I took you out to the front of the estate.”
It took a moment for the words to settle into her mind and make sense, but when they did, she simply asked, “Why?”
He kissed her, lingering at her lips before drawing away slowly. The moisture from his kiss made her lips cool as it evaporated on the morning breeze.
“Because if I had you inside, without a soul to interrupt us, you’d be in my bed already, and while I have many sins to answer for, I don’t wish for that to be one of them. I’ll bed you right and proper, but after you bear my name, lass.” He spoke the words like a promise, like a vow, like an oath.
Samantha wondered why it was so bloody vital; she was quite of the mind that his bedroom wasn’t too terribly far away. And they were to be married, quite soon as well. What could be the harm?
“You’re an impatient one, aren’t you?” Heathcliff asked with a slightly teasing tone. She leaned back and regarded him.
“Perhaps.”
“And you’re wondering why I’m being so honorable when, before I knew who you were, I was a little freer with my affection,” he stated.
Samantha tilted her head and leaned back slightly. “The thought had crossed my mind.” She arched a brow.
“Because the expectation was different.”
Samantha frowned. That was not what she was expecting him to say, nor did it bode well after her earlier statement. If the expectation for a governess was less, than didn’t that mean hewasmarrying her out of obligation, because shewasn’ta governess?
“I can see you misunderstand me.”
“This reading of minds is helpful, but later on I don’t know if I’ll find it as beneficial,” she commented, adding a bit of a tease to her tone.
“You’re quite easy to read; like a book, I’d say. But not always, only when you are impatient. When you’re willing to take your time with something, you’re practically unreadable. Quite frustrating, that. Especially when I pride myself on reading people quite well.”
Samantha grinned. “I’m pleased to know I can still keep at least some of my thoughts a secret.”
Heathcliff nodded. “Now, what I was saying was not that the expectation was different because you are a lady, and not to be dallied with, but . . .” He paused, thinking. His brow furrowed slightly, then he continued. “But you were far more attainable as a governess, perhaps you even needed me, or at least my protection or what it could afford. But as the daughter of a duke, you do not need me at all.”
Samantha shook her head. “It would seem I need you very much,” she replied meaningfully.
“Yes, but not in the same way. I wasn’t worthy of you. I’m still not. But what I am is willing. And, blessedly, that is enough.”
Samantha reached up and caressed his face, feeling the scruff of his beard through her glove. “When has that not been enough?”
“More often than you know,” he answered.
She trailed her finger down his cheek and then traced the outline of his jaw. “I would wish for more than just a willing spirit, Heathcliff,” she murmured, speaking his name for the first time out loud. Many times she had spoken it in her mind, but to hear it out loud was utterly delicious.
His eyes ignited as his gaze darted to her lips. “Say it again.”
She frowned.
