And then she tightened her hold around his neck and leaped into his arms. She would have successfully wrapped her legs around his waist if not for her skirts.
“What—?” But his hands caught the backs of her thighs and he sat her on the bridge’s wooden railing. When he dove to claim her mouth again, however, she teased him by arching backward, trusting that he would keep her from falling into the water rushing below.
“Diana!” He held her gaze, his eyes looking exasperated but also frustrated—because she’d eluded him.
He wanted her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do more than kiss her.
Hanging backward and laughing, she hovered over the water. Then, with some shuffling, she kicked her skirts out of the way enough that she could wrap her legs around him.
His hands gripped her, keeping her safe, keeping her from falling.
With Lord Greystone holding her, Diana watched one of her hairpins drop, hover on the surface, and then sink into the water.
She didn’t care. It was only a hairpin.
How could she care when a sensation of weightlessness as exciting as dancing lightened the air in her chest?
“Have you always been such a terror?” He asked. But he wasn’t admonishing her. His voice instead sounded…
Adoring?
He allowed her to hang for a moment before gathering her to sit upright again. As the blood rushed out of her face, Diana instinctively tightened her legs, drawing him closer.
He rocked his hips forward, his gaze pinned on hers.
It was too much. It wasn’t enough.
She closed her eyes and welcomed the scrape of his teeth as he dragged his mouth from her collar bone to her jaw, nipping and tasting her skin. Was that moaning sound coming from her or him?
“I can’t do this,” he said. But his hands were sliding up her legs, not at all haltingly. Once he reached her backside, his fingers dug into her, pulling her closer. He buried his face in her neck. “This can’t be real.”
She locked her ankles at his back.
“Why not?” But she knew why not. It could not be real because he was determined to please all those ghosts and people who hadn’t been born yet.
“Because once this,” He nipped at the sensitive skin along her jaw. “Has faded away, all the things that are wrong between us will come to light. You will resent me for bringing you into my world, and I’ll resent you for not fitting into mine.”
Was he right? He belonged in a world in which even her own father had denied her entry.
“Tell me your name.” She wanted something of him. She wanted to know she wasn’t completely locked out.
He paused his exploration of the skin around her jaw and neck and exhaled slowly.
“Ezekiel Winston Leonard Faraday the fourth,” He spoke the list of names against her skin. “Satisfied?”
“For now.” And then she recited it back. “Ezekiel.” She pressed her lips high on his cheek. “Winston.” She dragged her lips lower. “Leonard,” She found his chin. “Faraday the fourth.” She ended with a lingering kiss on his mouth.
When she drew back, he sighed.
“But you do not have leave to address me as such.” He straightened to lift her off the railing, lowering her feet to the bridge but keeping her in the circle of his arms.
“What about Zeke?”
He shook his head, and then, as though closing a door, dropped his arms and stepped away from her.
The trouble was, although maddening, Diana knew that all his reasons were legitimate.
How many times had she overheard similar conversations between her mother and father? It wasn’t that her father hadn’t loved her mother. He had. He must have. But the only way he could share his heart with her was by keeping every other part of him completely separate.
