He drew a deep breath and offered his arm to her. She shook her head slightly, but didn’t turn away. She just took it and let him lead her to the dining room.
But as they entered and she parted from him to take a seat at his right, he knew one thing and one thing only. He had to gather his senses and get it together. Or else things would happen here that could not and should not be. Not for him.
Not for her.
Chapter Three
Charlotte took a deep breath and a bracing sip of wine. She and Ewan were more than halfway through supper and it had been an exercise in control every moment of the meal. She was fighting so hard to be light, to joke with him. To pretend that the heated, powerful moment between them in the parlor hadn’t happened so that he would be comfortable and not consider running away from her.
But despite all her efforts, the pulse of that moment remained between them, and it had created a tension she’d never felt before. A heat and a desire that made her feelings so much more taut and undeniable.
It gave her hope. But not bravery.
As she set down her fork, footmen swept in to take away their supper plates. They were just as swiftly replaced by dessert. She smiled, for it was a chocolate torte with a sweet raspberry glaze along the top. Her favorite.
But of course it was her favorite. Because Ewan always gave her the things she loved. Her favorite room, her favorite flowers, her favorite food…her favorite man. Oh, but that he withheld, didn’t he? Let her see him, but never get as close as she wanted to. Even when he looked at her like he wanted to sweep the table clean and have his way with her right then and there.
She jolted as he stared at her, for that was exactly the expression in his dark eyes. And that expression made her find the bravery that had seemed so elusive.
“May we talk about what happened earlier?” she asked, her voice thick and shaky.
He turned his face like she’d struck him, and it took him what felt like an eternity to slowly sign, “What happened earlier?”
She pushed aside the dessert and scooted her chair a bit closer. He stiffened in response and a curtain drew down over his face, a distance he normally reserved for strangers.
Having it put there betweenthemmade her heart hurt. This was what she was risking by pushing him. That he would set her aside forever, that their relationship would be irreparably destroyed.
It terrified her. But then, so did walking away from what she wanted and what she felt. She’d done that once and had been miserable. If she didn’t risk this now, when all the world had seemed to align to make it happen, she feared the remainder of her life would be a series of regrets over what she hadn’t done or said.
“Ewan,” she whispered.
His hands shook as he signed, “Please don’t.”
“Why?” she asked, reaching out to grip his hands so he couldn’t say more. “Are you going to deny that you…that you…” Heat rushed to her cheeks, but she ignored it. “That you…want me?”
He jerked his gaze back to her, and in that moment she saw everything. Everything she hadn’t understood when she was nineteen, but perhaps it had always been there. She saw his deep pain, his deeper need. She saw his passion, stirring below the surface he fought to maintain. But now it was rising. Boiling. Almost out of control. Just a tiny shove was all he needed.
She was trembling as she tossed her napkin aside and pushed to her feet. He watched her, his gaze never leaving her face. Slowly she edged forward. His chair was angled back from the table a fraction, and she leaned a hand on either arm, pushing it. He obliged her silent order and scooted back even more.
She touched his face as she sank down into his lap. His breath exited his lips in a long, ragged sigh and then his arms folded around her, accepting her. Accepting this.
Her heart was pounding as she cupped both his cheeks. She lowered her lips, reveling in the warmth of his breath against her mouth just before she kissed him.
Ewan could hardly move or think or breathe as Charlotte pressed her lips to his. This was everything he’d ever wanted or dreamed about, and it was here, in his arms. And Charlotte was driven. She shimmied in his lap, grinding her backside down against him in a way that made his cock react. The control he’d mastered over the years was now nonexistent and he was hard as steel. She opened her mouth, tracing his lips with her tongue, and his mind went blank of all arguments or refusals.
He tightened his embrace, tugging her flush against him, and met her tongue with his. He drove into her, tasting every inch, stroking her tongue, memorizing her unique flavor. He could feel his fingers squeezing and releasing her hips, rocking her against him out of some ancient knowledge.
And if she disliked any of it, she made no indication. If anything, his ardor seemed to stir her own. She mewled in pleasure against his lips, arching against him, dueling with her tongue, grinding that supple backside harder and harder until he felt like he would explode with it.
What he wanted pounded inside of him, a driving drumbeat that echoed, “Take, claim, make mine. Mine. Mine.Forever.”
He jerked at that last thought, and with a sharp breath, he pushed to his feet, setting her aside to stagger for balance as he walked away.
“Ewan!” she gasped, her voice rough with the same want he felt in his chest.
He pivoted to face her and shook his head hard.
“You want me,” she snapped, pressing forward, with emotion snapping in those captivating green eyes. “Damn it! Why can’t you just…allowthis?”
