He broke the kiss. Parts of his body howled in protest. In response, Kit stood, carrying Elise in his arms up with him. She snuggled into him. Her hands reached to go around his neck. But before she could, he dumped her on the bed, and then he moved himself across the room.
His heart was pounding and his breathing was ragged as if he had run a long race. He braced against the washstand, willing himself back into control.
“Kit?” Her voice was soft, confused... a bit dazed.
He gathered himself. “Elise, we can’t.” He turned to her and then realized that was a mistake.
She sat on her knees in the middle of the bed, her hair curling down her shoulders. Her gown was hiked up above her thighs.
Her lips were swollen from his kisses.
It would be nothing—a mere two joyous steps—to cross the room to her.
But it wouldn’t be right.
“We can’t, Elise,” he repeated.
“Because?” She gave him a small smile. “Everyone believes we are man and wife.”
“Elise—”
“And if you are worried about what people will think, Kit, I don’t care. Do you understand me?I don’t care.I don’t want to spend my life with a duke or marry for money. I don’t want a man for his title. I want him because I respect him. Because I trust him. Because hevalues me.”
There was something wrong with what she was saying. He heard it but didn’t understand it... until he did. She was declaring herself to him, and she couldn’t. She mustn’t.
He’d known she was gentry. Certainly, she wasn’t a woman to trifle with. She came from a good family.
Hecame from a good family.
There were expectations for both of them, and a little sojourn with a person she thought was a ruffian playing Prince Hal could destroy her. It could cost them both everything, which was fine for him. He understood what was a play. She was the one clueless to his identity.
“Elise, will you pull the skirt of your gown down? It is quite distracting.” Gawd, he sounded like a governess.
Instead of taking his chiding to heart, herresponse was the opposite. Her smile turned wicked and intriguing. She leaned forward, and for a second it appeared as if her breasts were in danger of popping out of her bodice.
“Elise.” The word was a plea and a warning. Meanwhile, his hips seemed intent on crossing the room to her. He gripped the edge of the washstand and stood his ground.
Her teasing stopped. She sobered and slid to the edge of the bedstead, pulling her skirts down.
Kit didn’t know if that helped. Elise could have been wrapped up in thick blankets with a hood over her head and he’d want her. That kiss had opened a door that should have remained closed.
“Better, Kit?” she asked. Her voice was tight.
“Hardly,” he admitted.
“Then can you explain why you are—” Her voice broke off. She looked away and then finished, “Are you rejecting me?”
“You were in London for the Season?”
Her brow furrowed. “Yes. My sisters and myself.”
“I imagine you did well.”
“Are you asking if I had suitors? Of course. However, none of them compared to you.”
He let his breath out slowly. He didn’t doubt her sincerity, but what would her feelings be if she knew exactly who he was? He didn’t trust that she would be pleased to realize he’d been gulling her for the past several days.
At last, he found himself with a bit more control over his lust, but he didn’t move close to her. He didn’t have that much of a hold on himself. Her story. He needed to know her story. “Elise, you ran away over a man, no?”
