“I couldn’t begin to guess.” Why were her words so breathless and her heartbeat tripping so quickly through her veins? Being pressed against him in such a way was much like the kiss inthe corridor upstairs, but better. Another shiver went down her spine, for awareness flared anew, and it was very confusing.
He ran his palms up her arms then moved them so that they rested on either side of her neck. “I want to kiss you again.” As he said that, he skimmed the pad of one thumb along her collarbone. “Perhaps do more if you are of a mind.” That wicked promise had returned to his dark eyes, but there was something else there that she couldn’t identify. It excited her beyond reason.
“I…” Not knowing what to do, Emmaline wriggled into a more comfortable position. The outline of his hardened length was evident against her belly, and for the first time, she knew why her sisters had chased men into scandal… the men who were now their husbands. When she raised her gaze from his mouth to his eyes, she nearly fell into those chocolate depths before common sense swam to the forefront and brought with it cold disappointment. “You are still under the influence of the love spell. It’s not really me who you want.”
“I rather doubt that’s true.” When he touched his lips to hers, wild sensation danced through her insides. “You see, I am two and thirty, and in that time, I’ve traveled the world searching for meaning and purpose until my father died unexpectedly. His heart.” Sadness clouded his eyes. “I don’t want that to happen to me without having accomplished the things I set out to do.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Daring much, she brushed a shock of curls from his forehead while keeping her upper half levered with her elbows planted on his chest. “Is the wanderlust still upon you?”
“At times. I haven’t found a place in this world where I feel as if I’ve come home… until now.”
She frowned. “Why now? What’s different?”
“You. Ivy Cottage.” He glanced about the shadow filled room while the rain drummed against the windows. “This place is sofar removed from my real life that it’s the perfect spot to begin the next phase, don’t you think?”
Quite frankly, she didn’t knowwhatto think. “Do you plan to settle here? In this cottage?” If so, that would mean this was no longer the place where she would find her own path.
“I’m not sure.” Seconds later, he tangled the fingers of one hand into her hair. “But this welcome is quite lovely, because of you.”
“Ha. It’s the love spell talking.”
“No.” In fact, that half-crazed glaze had left him. “It’s truly not, my sweet Emmy.”
Emmaline caught her breath. Why had he used such an endearment? “I do agree with you about the cottage, though, and to be honest, I’ve never had a man interested in me, so that has been a thrill.” Unwilling to see the pity in his face, she buried her face into the fine lawn of his shirt, breathed in his scent. “I’ll lose the cottage, whether or not you stay here. I will go home in defeat, and everyone will be convinced that because I’m a recluse, I am too broken to live a full life.” Admitting such a thing to this man, letting him know she was a failure, brought tears to her eyes.
“Look at me.” When he put his crooked forefinger beneath her chin and raised her head, she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “We’re all broken in some way. That doesn’t mean we aren’t worthy—of friendship, of companionship, of love.” And then he kissed her, and continued as if he had nothing else to do with his time.
It made her quite warm inside, removed from where she was, let her forget about the storm and the uncertainty of her future.
Later, she was never certain how it had happened, but somehow, he’d removed her dress and stays, but she had the recollection that she’d helped him wholeheartedly. To be fair, she’d also encouraged him to take off his shirt, and the resultingviews of his lean chest with the heavy mat of dark hair in an abstract butterfly pattern was more than worth the impending scandal.
The more kisses they exchanged, the more she seemed to float on the air, and by the time he closed his lips around one of her hardened nipples through the thin fabric of her shift, Emmaline was nearly sent to heaven. Pleasure streaked through her veins, left no part of her unaffected. Heat tingled over her skin, and she put a hand to his nape, keeping his head where she needed him to be. His weight on top of her was both thrilling but worrisome, and though she’d heard enough of Gigi’s stories to know what happened between men and women while consumed with passion, she had questions and concerns. Above all of that, she couldn’t help but wonder what coupling felt like.
With this man, especially.
When he finally let her up for air, she drew her fingertips along the side of his face. The stubble there rasped against her skin to further enhance that burgeoning awareness. Insistent need made itself known between her thighs, but she thought it rather gauche to ask him to touch her there. Should she just take his hand and hope he knew?
It was too much to think about. Already, she was drunk on him, and they’d done little more than kiss. “How is this possible?” she whispered and followed the question by pressing a series of feather-weighted kisses beneath his jaw. Oh, that part of him was a magnificent work of art! “Ididn’t even drink the tea.”
The rumble of his chuckle tickled through her chest. “I did, but I don’t put much stock in herbal love spells or aphrodisiac-laced teas.”
“Why?”
He tucked a portion of her hair behind her ear. “What this is, what is brewing between us? It’s all you, or rather, us.” As heslipped a hand down her back, following her spine to rest on the curve of her rear, Emmaline shivered. Christian grinned. “There is a definite and acute attraction there, a connection that binds us together. Some would say it’s this night, the magic in the air. Others will argue it’s merely lust and nothing else.”
“And what would you say?” She could listen to this man for the rest of her life and always feel the way she did now.
“Ah, my little witch, I say I’m quite gobsmacked about this, and you have managed to captivate me beyond measure. With your permission, I would like to explore that.”
She frowned. “How? Don’t men bed women and leave them, consider them little more than playthings?” Her older sisters had always cautioned her against bounders like that.
“Some men do.” He stared into her eyes. “You have my promise I am not like that, and…”
“And?” Her heartbeat leaped through her veins, and she was very aware ofthatpart of him pressing insistently into her belly.
“Do you promise not to chase me with your stick again?” One of his dark eyebrows arched in challenge.
“I promise.” She gave his shoulder a playful smack. Was his sense of humor an act or was it who he truly was?
