“We’ll ride along the cliffs tomorrow,” he said. Hell, he’d give her whatever she wanted.
At this, she tilted her head back, and he noticed that a cauldron of emotions swirled at the back of her eyes again.
Eyes that appeared darker than they had earlier, the black of her pupils filling much of the blue.
“I’d like that.”
He was as attracted to her voice as anything else—melodious and velvety.
One more kiss. He meant it to be quick but instead took longer. And the promise between the two of them blossomed in it—the promise of more than pleasure—of something he’d given up hope of ever having.
“Whatever you do, for heaven’s sake, do not allow him to kiss you!” Even as Chloe’s words floated through Priscilla’s thoughts, she wound her arms around his neck.
Emerson.
This would be the last time, she promised herself as she flattened herself against him. The last kiss.
“So sweet.” His voice rumbled out of his mouth and into her throat, spreading warm tingling feelings as it swept through her.
She tried telling herself that this kiss wasn’t intended for her, but her body knew otherwise. He might think he was courting Allison Meadowbrook, but he was kissing her.
Holding her.
Even the cold wind that gusted off the sea couldn’t cool her, wasn’t enough to wake her from this dream.
But it wasn’t a dream—even if it felt like one.
And since this kiss needed to be their last, she wanted it to be everything.
He groaned, pulling her closer. “Dear God, Allison.”
The name. Even though she’d expected it this time, felt like tiny needles poking at her heart.
And she couldn’t prevent herself from uttering a small cry of protest.
He released her mouth but kept his arms around her. Then, tucking her head under his chin, he smoothed his hand down her back. “Don’t ever fear me, sweetheart. I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never force you into doing anything you don’t want to.”
Even marrying him?
His tone was meant to comfort her, but she found herself stiffening guiltily. What were they doing? What was she doing? She was wasting his time. He probably thought he was making strides, but he wasn’t pursuing the woman he thought he was. And he’d hate her if he found out.
Even though she wanted nothing more than to lean into his warmth, she drew back shakily.
She couldn’t look into his eyes. Surely, he would recognize deception in hers?
Staring down at the soft dirt, she studied her feet and then his. Even wearing the boot, she could tell his injured foot was swollen.
“I couldn’t miss riding with you,” he’d told her. More guilt flooded her.
“Shall we return inside?” She forced herself to meet his gaze with a smile.
Confusion flashed in his expression as he studied her. But it was quickly replaced with a slight smile even as his eyes shuttered—as though he had secrets of his own.
He nodded, and with one hand still grasping the saddle, led his horse toward the stable. After handing Arturo off to Leroy, Emerson hesitated and scrubbed a hand down his face.
“If you wouldn’t mind going in alone, I’ll join you shortly.”
“I do mind, actually,” Priscilla said. At his stunned expression, she added, “I’ve no intention of allowing you to hobble to the house on your own when it’s obvious you’re in pain.”
