“I shall leave the moment we finish our discussion,” Damien said as he nudged the door open with the palm of his hand and moved into the room.
Shoulders slumped in defeat, Isabella eased the door shut and slowly turned to face the earl. She kept her face lowered, attempting to master her emotions. She was certain the pain and vulnerability she felt was still mirrored in her eyes. And she felt compelled to shield Damien from her distress.
“First of all, I must beg your pardon for my behavior downstairs. Lord Poole usually acts like a braying ass, but that does not excuse my conduct.” A self mocking expression touched the corners of Damien’s mouth. “I am sorry.”
“Do you think it is true?” Isabella asked, ignoring the earl’s apology. She raised her head. “Could I be Poole’s sister?”
“Half sister,” Damien replied. He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure what I believe, Isabella. Yet I can’t stop myself from hoping this is merely another of Poole’s attempts to bring misery into my life.”
Isabella stood watching him in silence for a long moment. Her hands began to tremble, and her stomach felt queasy. “Would you hate me? If it were true?” she finally whispered.
“I could never hate you, my dear.” Damien moved forward and lightly touched Isabella’s shoulder. “But in all honesty, I must confess I would be very pleased to prove Poole a liar.”
“I see.” A heavy weight settled in Isabella’s breast. She breathed deeply, but it would not ease. “Ever since I was told that Charles Browning was not my real father, I’ve longed to learn the truth about my birth. Yet I never let myself hope I could discover my real family, because I knew it was an impossible task. The answers died with my mother all those years ago. But tonight ... tonight Lord Poole brought that hope back to life.”
Isabella shut her eyes tightly, willing back the tears. “I am afraid, Damien. I am terrified to learn the truth, yet I am drawn almost against my will toward it. If I am indeed Poole’s sister, then I have finally found the family I’ve hungered to know for so many years. And that discovery will, by your own admission, bring you misery. I don’t want to hurt you, Damien.”
“Isabella.” Damien reached out and pulled her closely against him. A wave of guilt engulfed Isabella at his affection and concern, and her shoulders shook as she sobbed noisily.
Damien held her tightly, murmuring soothing words until her sobs became sniffles. Isabella shifted her position slightly and laid her head against his shoulder. She felt so secure in his arms. Taking the handkerchief from her pocket, she dabbed at her tears and gulped back the few remaining sobs.
“I am sorry,” she said softly. “I never meant to lose such complete control over my emotions.”
“It has been a shocking evening for both of us. A few tears are understandable.” He touched her cheek. “I might shed a few myself before the night is over.”
Isabella felt her lips curve into a smile. “I highly doubt that, sir.” She stared into his handsome face, finding it impossible to picture him succumbing to tears when faced with adversity.
“I won’t lie to you, Isabella,” Damien said solemnly, his penetrating gaze never faltering. “I’m not thrilled with the notion of having Poole for a brother-in-law again.”
Isabella’s brows shot up in surprise. “That is hardly the issue, sir. I have no plans to marry you.”
“We will marry,” he said.
A look crossed his face that caused a stirring in Isabella’s heart. She held her tongue, realizing with surprise that she had no inclination to argue the point with him. Although she had been adamant in her refusal of his marriage proposal earlier, her mind, prompted by her heart, now wavered. Perhaps they should marry. It was clear that Damien cared for her, maybe even more than he realized.
Isabella knew he was capable of love, for even though she had often insisted he devote more time to Catherine and Ian, she never once doubted the depth of love Damien carried for his children. Perhaps someday he would come to love her. The thought thrilled and humbled Isabella.
She gently pressed her palm to Damien’s chest and felt his heartbeat. For one tiny fragment of time she swore their hearts thudded in unison. She raised her chin and slowly lifted her face toward his. Damien smiled and touched his lips to hers briefly, but Isabella could feel his desire. His eagerness. His hunger. It exactly mirrored her own needs. Pressing herself against him, she returned the kiss passionately, holding nothing back. -
Her tongue met his boldly, imitating the strong thrusts she remembered from their previous joining. Damien’s hands roamed her body with urgent gentleness, his lips trailing sweet, succulent kisses down her sensitive neck.
“Tell me to leave,” he whispered huskily.
Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears, and it took Isabella a few moments to realize Damien had spoken. She tentatively raised her head. She could hear his uneven breathing in the silence and see her own blatant need reflected in his stormy gray eyes.
“What did you say?”
“Tell me to leave before I throw you down upon this bed and thrust myself inside your warmth.” He slipped a hand beneath her skirt and possessively ran his palm up her leg to the apex of her thighs, emphasizing his meaning.
Isabella became still. She did her best to focus her vision on Damien’s handsome features, but she felt lost in an erotic spell. Damien’s hand remained between her thighs, pressing, rubbing, stroking. Isabella let out a small cry when she felt the hot wetness he brought forth. It was shocking. Scandalous. Leaning closer to him, Isabella nipped playfully at Damien’s earlobe. Her hands moved beneath his jacket and waistcoat, and she kneaded his chest sensually.
“Please stay with me tonight.”
Damien smiled broadly, jolting the aching heat in Isabella’s body. “An excellent suggestion, my dear.”
He swept her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed. He bent down and kissed her lips fully, his tongue caressing her warm mouth. She drew him against her body, running her hands through his thick, dark hair. Isabella could feel his fingers unbuttoning her gown and she smiled. It felt so right.
Damien’s firm hands pushed the gown off her shoulders. He hastily untied the ribbons of her chemise and reverently lowered it to her waist.
