He pulled away to watch her lovely face as she found her satisfaction. Ecstasy, pain, delight, and then gratification. The crimson flush of passion only enhanced her classic beauty.
No tears now. Just a soft, sensual, lazy smile.
His own arousal persisted, but he disregarded it. This had been about her. His gaze memorized her curves, the dips and shadows of her belly and the dark curling hair entangled with his fingers. When she let out a sigh, he removed his hand and reluctantly eased her gown down to cover her again.
“I’m afraid to open my eyes.” Her voice sounded sleepy. “I’m afraid this is just a dream. I’m also afraid it’s all too real.”
Her honesty gave him pause.
He could not read more into this than there was. Eve Mossant had been born into the upper classes. He was all too aware of society’s constraints. God damn him if he fell in love again.
He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
“Nothing more than a moment in time, Eve. We must seize life’s pleasures when offered.” Did he sound as stilted to her as he did to himself?
And then she rose on one arm and was leaning over him. Brandy colored eyes met his. “Niles. Thank you. Thank you for offering me one of life’s pleasures. I haven’t…” She shrugged almost imperceptibly.
And then her lips found his.
And like her smile, this kiss unfolded lazy and slow. They savored it like a decadent dessert after a gourmet meal.
When she drew back, he couldn’t help but ask, “How long?” The question was inappropriate, he knew, but all of this was inappropriate. And he wanted to know more of her, her secrets, her desires, her dreams.
She winced. “Too long.”
“You never sought intimacy outside of your marriage?” Would she answer him? He half expected the question to send her into a rage.
“I did not.” She looked as though she might apologize. But then, “What of you? Have you had somebody special in your life? Someone to warm your bed at night?” She flushed pink at the second part of her question.
Eve traced her finger along Niles’shoulder.
None of this made for appropriate conversation. They’d gone well beyond being appropriate with one another.
Niles had never married. A part of her hated imagining him alone, lonely, but another part of her hated even more, the idea that a woman awaited him somewhere.
“On and off,” he answered vaguely.
Niles touched her face and then lifted his chin to demand another kiss. Oh, how lovely to touch another human being like this again. To be kissed. To feel another person’s hands on her body.
During the early months of her marriage, Jean Luc had kissed her, but he’d not seemed overly comfortable doing so.
Those kisses had never made her feel like this — like she could melt into him. Not that she could remember.
It had been so very long.
“Did you never come close to marrying? Did you never fall in love?” She had no idea as to the etiquette required after such an intimate act. Could one ask a lover about previous… lovers?
He captured her lips a second time. More melting. Exploring.
“Are you avoiding the question, Mr. Waverly?” she half teased him when their lips parted on a sigh.
“No. Just couldn’t help myself, Mrs. Mossant.” And then he shifted himself so that she lay half on top of him. “I was in love once. Hard not to ever experience the ailment over the course of four decades.”
“What happened?”
“She didn’t feel the same.”
“And you haven’t been in love since? Was she the love of your life, then?”
