He’d told her the unvarnished truth. Since Peter’s death, he’d begun yearning to be something beyond his father’s protégé and successor. How had he ever thought it was enough to become a facsimile of a man who, in the end, he’d resented for his falsehoods to Dom’s mother, to his patrons, to everyone?
Meeting Tess had only intensified the yearning for more. For her, he didn’t want to play a role, or tell her wild tales of his adventures, or seduce her with the intention of having her and then leaving as soon as he was able.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt no urgency to move on to the next exploit or treasure hunt. And it had nothing to do with what they would or would not find in Fenbridge’s field. It had everything to do with the lush, lovely woman who’d led him to a sweet-scented orchard and kissed him with an ardent need that made him confess things to her.
“You should not worry,” she told him after studying his face in the silver moon’s glow. “It’s a very good thing.”
She seemed to notice how his gaze kept slipping down to her lips. He needed to kiss her again.
“I want to kiss you too, Dominic,” she whispered.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he bent closer.
She braced a slim hand against the center of his chest and held herself back. “But we must talk first.”
“More talking?” He’d already revealed the tangled mess his thoughts had devolved into these past days. What must she think of his confession that he wasn’t the man he’d long thought he was?
“Yes.” Tess created an inch of space between them, then another, though she didn’t step out of his embrace entirely. “I got carried away.”
He chuckled at the lovely admission.
“Please feel free to do that often,” he urged.
“First, we need rules.”
He frowned. “Rules?”
Tess took a deep breath as if trying to untangle her own thoughts. “Perhaps clarity is a better word. Or parameters.”
“Parameters.”
“Mmm.” She nodded as she drew a step closer, her hand still a soothing point of connection against his chest. “If we’re to be... lovers, I need to know what it will entail, how long it will last, and what will happen when it’s done.”
He started to smile but then smoothed his features. “You want to know what you’re getting into.”
“Yes. The limits of it. The shape of it.” As she said the last word, her body shifted against his, and she blushed in the darkness at the unintended innuendo.
“Should there be limits to what we do?” He didn’t like the sound of that. “Do you mean how often we...”
Tess shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. First, let’s begin by you telling me what you want out of this.”
He couldn’t hold back his grin. If he told her everything he wanted, he’d shock her. But the lovely siren had asked for him to be honest. “I want to kiss every inch of your body, learn all the ways you like to be touched, and pleasure you until you scream my name.” His voice dropped lower as desire rocked through him. “And then I want to do it again and again until you’re bonelessly sated.”
Tess swallowed hard. “I s-see.”
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, stroking his knuckles against the edge of her cheek. So warm. So soft. What would she say if he admitted he wanted to kiss her each time she looked his way during the course of a day? “Whatever you desire, Tess, that’s what I want to give to you.”
“Don’t overpromise,” she told him with mock sternness. Or perhaps there was nothing mock about it. He did note a bit of wariness in her gaze.
Tread carefully, he reminded himself. She’d been hurt. He would never hurt her. He vowed that to himself then and there.
She’d likely been promised the world once before.
“Very well.” He bent and kissed her cheek softly. “I promise only to let your wishes be my guide. How’s that?”
“What of your wishes? And please speak the truth.”
They were far simpler than she seemed to comprehend. “This, right now, having you in my arms,” he told her, “is what I’ve been wishing for since the moment we met.”
