Dorrie wondered if he knew that his hands were now on her waist.
“I can’t promise you anything. You should go to your marriage bed pure.”
“And yet a man can go to his after bedding many women? That is hardly fair.” He was pulling her closer.
He made a strangled sound in his throat as Dorrie’s body touched his.
“I do not make the rules, Dorset. Daughters of noblemen do not lie with men before marriage.”
“And yet my brothers can?” She placed a kiss on his jaw. His body was hard, tense, and Dorrie had never seduced a man. She’d never wanted to. Somer had talked about what happened when she and Gus lay together. Told her how wonderful it had been. She also knew that Somer had lain with Gus before they were wed. Yet, they had known they would marry.
“Stop.” The word sounded torn from him as she placed her lips in the V between the collars of his shirt.
“I don’t want to stop. I want to forget about the deaths of the people I have known since childhood. I want to feel something other than sorrow and desperation.”
“Your brothers would kill me, and I would deserve it.”
“I won’t tell them. Nor will I hold you to anything other than this moment. Let us forget for a few minutes, Ash.”
“My hope is it would be longer than a few minutes.” He cupped her face now. “Be very sure, Dorrie, as I will make no promise to you of a future.”
“I understand.” But she could hope that after they made love he would want to stay and be with her.
He backed her into the room and shut the door. He then turned the key in the lock; the noise sounded loud in the quiet house.
“This is wrong.” He pushed the blanket off her body. “I have no right to touch someone like you.”
“And yet I have given you that right.” She exhaled as his hands ran down her sides.
“You are a beautiful woman, Dorset Sinclair.”
“I look like every woman in my family.”
His hands had moved to her back, tracing each curve, stopping to run a finger along the ridge of her shoulder blades. Each touch had her body trembling.
“No. You look like you.” He turned her, moving to the long mirror that stood in the corner. “Your face is different from the others. These,” he ran the pad of his thumb over her lips, “are lusher than your sisters’. I’ve thought about kissing them often.”
“You have,” she breathed.
“Not nearly enough.”
He splayed a hand on her belly; the other he used to push her hair over her shoulder.
“Your eyes tilt slightly in the corners, your sisters’ do not. And your eyelashes are the longest.”
“How do you know these things?”
“I watched you.” He pushed the edge of her chemise aside and kissed her shoulder. “Open your eyes, Dorrie.”
She did, and looked in the mirror. He was so much bigger than her, and yet in that moment she felt strong. This man made her feel strong. And different. Dorrie had never believed herself special or different, and yet right now she felt it.
“I want you very much.” He whispered the words into her ear.
“Yes.”
“Be sure, Dorrie.”
She managed to nod as his hand moved up her body to cup her breast. The act had been deliberate, to shock her. Maybe scare her to back away. It thrilled her.
