He nodded slowly. “I believe you would.”
The finger on her chin slid farther and he cupped her cheek in one big palm. His fingers spread over her skin and her heart stuttered with the action. He filled up everything in her sight, made her only aware of him and the fact that he was inching in closer, consuming all the space around her.
“I might even believe you could,” he said, bending his head.
His lips brushed over hers. She had been waiting for this without even acknowledging it to herself. Waiting for him to touch her in a way no other man would dare do. And now he did and it was…perfect.
He was gentle in the kiss, his full lips only feather-light as they moved over hers. Until Celia let out her breath in a sigh. When her mouth parted, his tongue darted out and he tasted her, just as gently.
She was surprised by the deepening of the kiss, but even more surprised by her body’s reaction to it. His arms folded around her and she didn’t resist, he drew her closer and she didn’t fight it. She fit against him like she was meant to do so, and opened further for his explorations. He tasted faintly of port, sweet and intoxicating, and he moved his tongue over hers, stroking and teasing.
Her body went almost boneless with the caress, but she didn’t need its support—he was holding her now. Keeping her from falling. But also coaxing her to fall in a whole different way.
Warmth spread from where he kissed her and cascaded through her body, settling in the most wicked of places. Her nipples grew hard and sensitive beneath her silky gown, and between her legs there began a constant, pulling throb.
She’d never felt anything like it, and yet she was absolutely aware that this wasneed. This wasdesire. This was being swept away by passion.
Only she wasn’t swept far. In an instant, he released her, steadying her carefully before he stepped away. His breath was short, his face flushed as he stared down at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “That was wrong of me.”
“Why?” Celia asked, her voice cracking. “I liked it.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, mouthing some unspoken curse. “As did I,” he said at last. “But I should go before I do something I can’t undo.”
Her eyes went wide. Before her engagement ended, she’d been told a little about making love. Since Rosalinde and Gray’s marriage, she’d gleaned far more.Thatwas what he was talking about. He feared he would lose control and go too far with her. Right here. On the terrace.
Because he wanted her.
Her body thrilled at that fact and she took an involuntary step closer, reaching for this thing she had long denied herself, until the desire for it had changed her so entirely. This man personified the risks she’d never dared take, the feelings she’d declared were not meant for her.
“You told me I should call you Celia in private,” he said, his voice still rough and needy. “You may call me—”
He broke off, as if he were searching for the name. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. He was a duke, so he had likely been Clairemont and nothing else for many years.
“Aiden,” he said at last.
She smiled. “Aiden,” she whispered, letting it roll on her tongue. She loved the gift of it, though when she said it she didn’t really feel like it fully fit him.
He nodded. “Goodnight, Celia.”
“Goodnight, Aiden,” she replied.
He bowed to her slightly, then moved back toward the house. She followed, her mind still spinning and her heart still racing. She’d gone into this night uncertain if this man liked her, if he judged her.
She ended it knowing the flavor of his lips and the intensity of his stare when he wanted something. And also knowing her own reaction when her body called for pleasures most ladies shunned out of propriety. Shunned out of fear of the unknown.
But she refused to do that. After that kiss, the unknown still seemed frightening, but it also felt like something she wanted. Something she refused to accept she would never have. Shewouldhave it.
One way or another.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Clairemont paced the parlor at Stalwood’s home, waiting for the earl to join him. They had planned to discuss his meeting with Grayson Danford, so he should have been gathering his thoughts and impressions of the man. He wasn’t.
Instead it was thoughts of Celia that kept pushing their way in. Over and over, he relived his conversation with her when he first arrived at the Danford home. She’d been shockingly straightforward in her worries about her past. And he couldn’t help but think of later, when Celia’s mouth had finally touched his. He could still hear her soft sigh when his tongue breached her, and feel her innocent and yet powerful reaction to a kiss that never should have happened in the first place.
But mostly his errant mind turned ceaselessly on what had happenedafterthat stolen kiss.
