It had been coming. It had hovered around him, and he’d kept pushing it away. Ignoring it, calling it by another name—respect, attraction, lust. It was the reason he’d boldly promised to protect her reputation with his name if it came to that.
But now, he fell into “it,” shoving reservations and excuses aside.
He loved Gwendolyn Lanscarr. And he found the realization both illuminating and terrifying.
The breadth of what he felt for Gwendolyn shook him to his core.
Had he warned Gwendolyn off because he didn’t want her? Nothing could be further from the truth. She had been right in her claim. There had been a connection between them from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her in that Dublin gaming hell.
And his fascination had grown, even when he didn’t wish to admit it. He’d told himself it was because he’d been rejected by a woman once, and he did not wish to experience that humiliation again.
Except he knew Gwendolyn’s heart, her courage, her intelligence.Her honesty.She didn’t act thoughtlessly.
She met him as an equal, as ifherfeelings,herdesires... heropinionmattered becausehewas important toher. He understood that now. Never once had she wavered in her admiration of him... even when he hadn’t admired himself.
And there wasn’t a moment when he’d not been aware of her—the way she tilted her head up to listen to him, the light in her eyes when he approached, her empathy when memory overtook his sanity. She’d been right there beside him. She’d not questioned his quest to find his mother or the horror of what he said had happened.
And if a man didn’t value such a woman, if he didn’t open his heart to her, then he was a bloody fool.
Beck was no fool.
He rushed for the door. She was checking thegray’s girth. He was struck anew by her grace, her beauty, but he’d known beautiful women, and none of them had Gwendolyn’s strength of character.
She was a cut above. She was unique. Precious.His.
Beck moved down the steps to her.
“You don’t believe we will be too early to call on St. Albion’s—” she said as if she thought he hadn’t left the cottage yet. Then, realizing he was there, that he stood close, she turned in surprise—and that is when Beck swept her up in his arms and kissed her.
Chapter Fourteen
The kiss caught Gwendolyn off guard.
Ever since he’d almost kissed her in Dublin, she’d dreamed of this moment. She’d even hugged her pillow and rehearsed for when he’d finally take her in his arms—what she’d say to him, how he’d respond, how she’d answer. She had a conversation of comments planned out.
Except now all those careful, brilliant words flew from her mind... because he was kissing her. And words were inadequate.
That didn’t mean that another part of her brain wasn’t panicking. Gwendolyn had never been kissed by a man before.
Yes, there had been dutiful pecks from boring suitors and the sloppy, quick kisses of the too bold. But this was different. Beckett knew how to hold her in his arms, and there was no timidity about him.
Her breasts flattened against his chest. Her thighs pressed against his. She felt his desire, his passion. It was strong and bold, and she abruptly stiffened, overly conscious that she was going toembarrass herself. She didn’t know what she was doing. She would disappoint him and then he’d pull back, and all would be lost.
As if giving credence to her secret fears, Beckett paused, lifted his head. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting to let him go.
“Gwendolyn? Is something wrong?” he asked quietly.
She felt her forehead crinkle in alarm. “I—I—” She stopped, and then confessed, “I don’t know what I’m doing. Not when it comes to kissing someone like you.”
“Like me?” His features softened. “Then let me guide you. Close your eyes.”
She did as instructed.
“Now.” His deep voice hummed through her body. “Part your lips and breathe deeply.”
As she took the breath, his mouth covered hers, and it was magic. His hold around her tightened. She melted against him, breasts to chest, thighs to thighs, the juncture of her legs against the juncture of his. He didn’t push. He kept himself still... and all was good.
Because she was safe, she realized. She didn’t need to guard against Beckett.
