Reaching higher, Belle pulled tighter. His back was long and broad, and she could feel the central groove of his spine. Right now, it bowed against her hand, bending to the shape of her smaller height, desperate to draw her close.
As she explored the lines of his muscles and the ridges of his shoulders, Henry broke their kiss to seek out her neck. One hand cupped her jaw as he bent her back over the other. Her throat exposed, her eyes closed, Belle only realized she was holding her breath when her lungs began to spasm.
"Henry... Oh!"
The warmth of Henry's kiss moved over the tendon of her neck before the wet tip of his tongue found a sensitive hollow at the base of her throat.
She cried out, her fingers digging into hot flesh.
Henry moaned at the violence in her touch.
Before she knew what was happening, Belle was being taken on a sensual adventure. A kiss could mean so many things, render the body prone in so many ways. And Henry knew them all. He labored his love upon her neck, he lavished her shoulder and collarbone with a feast of sensual touches. His hands stroked her through her gown and sent sparks of pleasure through her scalp when he tugged on her hair.
Within moments, Belle was reduced to a needy, lustful creature that could do little but tremble and spark with delicious sensation. Her hands were wrapped around Henry's belt, needing something to hold on to and desperate not to let him go.
She pulled him closer, her hips moving against his in an instinct as old as man. When a hardness pressed back at her, Henry gasped with pleasure. Everything was perfect. Everything was vibrant.
And then, suddenly, everything stopped.
Her chest heaving, her mind a whirling rush, Belle was thrown when Henry suddenly went still.
Breaking their kiss, he placed a damp and sticky brow against her forehead, and his eyes bored into hers. His breathing was hard and heavy. His skin was blazing hot against her knuckles.
"Henry?" Her voice was barely a whisper. She had no air to breathe, let alone to speak. Her lips felt so bruised she was not sure they could form real words.
"We can't..." Henry panted, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. "We can't..."
"I don't understand..." Belle did not know whether to laugh out loud or cry with frustration. What did he mean they could not? Theywere. This was what love was. This was what lovers did, was it not? What was so wrong with that?
"You are betrothed," he said.
Now Belledidlaugh. She tried to pull him closer, to reassure him of her unspoken decision. Resisting her, he remained where he was, unyielding and unshakeable.
"Well, of course I shall not be betrothed now."
"You will be." The words sounded painful. As if they had been drawn from the very base of Henry's soul. "You will be betrothed to a man of merit. Of equal nobility to your name. I cannot give you that. I shall never bepermittedto give you that."
"That doesn't matter," Belle said.
Slowly, however, she was developing a horrible, sinking feeling. A disgusting suspicion that she had just made a colossal mistake. That none of this had been about Henry claiming her as his woman.
"It does. It must matter. It is the foundation on which the Highlands must grow." Somehow those words did not quite seem Henry's own, as if he were repeating a quote to himself or the words of another. Perhaps the rules of etiquette?
The hurt that was bubbling in Belle's heart was quickly being joined by anger. Just how many times was etiquette going to tell her no? Surely, with her own person being brought into this very castle and made into the heir of a laird, surely all rules of polite society could be broken?
Henry, she realized, just did not wish to. Did not wish to fight for her.
Belle closed her eyes. She tried to blot out Henry's face. Remove the image of his eyes, filled with sorrow and regret.
This isnae happening. This cannae be happening...
She had been ready to forgive the incident in the forest. That kiss had been prompted by a collision of circumstances. They had been cold, they had needed warmth. He had taken her into his arms because fate had chosen to see their mouths collide. And the dining hall had been a surprise to them both. It had caught them unawares and been irresistible in its ambush.
But this...
"I-I am sorry, but we must be reasonable. I have a home to think on. Plans to make..."
Belle was not listening.
