He had thought of little else since he’d first met her. He wanted her. Every time he looked at her. But despite her daring and fiery nature, she was an innocent. She didn’t know much about life despite her courage and determination. And she trusted him. He eased away, placing her at a safe distance, torn between burgeoning desire and the necessity to refuse her. His next mission was into the heart of France and his chance of returning alive an uncertainty. “That would not be sensible.”
She removed her bonnet and put a hand to her hair. “Not everything in life must be sensible. I promise when I leave you in Bath, I will never try to see you again.”
“Diana…I couldn’t leave you after that.”
She peeled off her gloves. “Yes, you could. The demands made on you by the crown will soon fill your life.”
“If only it were that simple.”
She smiled slightly. “Why is it not?” Her searching gaze held his as she unbuttoned her pelisse and slipped it from her shoulders. She ran her fingers over the bodice, drawing his eye to her breasts. Damian raised his eyebrows. Did she intend to seduce him? Her striped, modest muslin carriage gown was deceiving. It clung to the slender curves beneath.
The carriage seemed to fill with her warm scent. If he weren’t so roused, her attempt at seduction would have amused him. “You believe that we could just shake hands and part afterward?”
She frowned, refusing to laugh. “Not like that, precisely. But I believe in the commitment to your country you’ve made. It matters more than anything else in your life at this moment. Am I not right?”
She might have been once, though not now. But considering it unwise to reveal his feelings on the matter, he shook his head.
“You don’t want marriage, but you desire me, Damian.”
“Are you sure this isn’t just a reaction to finding Lady Anne?”
She shook her head. “Being here with you is something I’ll treasure. Especially when I return home, and my father presents me with the man with whom I am to spend the rest of my life. And Papa will choose a husband who can keep his unruly daughter in control.” She flushed as if she feared she was disloyal. “Not because Papa doesn’t love me. But because he thinks he knows what is best for me.”
Damian liked women and took care to discover their needs during an affair. He’d never left a lover feeling animosity toward him, and he didn’t want this to end badly, for both their sakes. But he could not oblige her. He moved the pelisse onto the opposite seat and joined her, catching her hand in his, the touch of her soft skin, enough to fire his imagination and send his blood racing. “And when your husband discovers you are not a virgin?”
She shrugged. “What does that matter?”
“The man may be angry. Your whole life will begin with a lie.”
“As I’m sure many do.”
But not you, he thought. She was the most truthful woman he had ever known.
At the urgency and desire in her eyes, he slowly shook his head while his breathing quickened, and his body hardened. Her scent filled his senses and the need to take her soft body in his arms was irresistible. She was so lovely, but troubled, as she tried to come to terms with finding Lady Anne and losing her again, he longed to comfort her any way he could.
She saw his indecision and her dark-blue eyes widened, filled with passionate desire. Leaning close, she traced the line of his jaw with a slender finger. “I intended to take a lover before I marry. Even before I met you, Damian.”
So, if not him, then some other man, who might not treat her well. Jealousy seared through him like fire at the thought of herin someone else’s arms, some rake kissing her, taking pleasure in her body.No!
As the coach bumped along the road, he lowered the carriage blinds. Damian didn’t fool himself into believing he would stop after a few kisses, but she would remain a virgin when he left her. He refused to risk her becoming pregnant. With a sharp intake of breath, he cupped her chin and ran a thumb over her trembling full lip, then with a moan, pressed his mouth to hers.
Chapter Sixteen
The breeze throughthe open window stirred the blinds and cool air drifted over Diana’s heated skin. Once her breasts were freed from her bodice, Ballantine had tweaked and kissed her nipples into hard, sensitive peaks, making her whimper and wriggle and sigh.
“Damian, do people really do such things?” she whispered, shocked, when he eased up her skirts and kneeled to settle between her legs.
He gazed up at her, breathing fast, his eyes heavy lidded. “They do, sweetheart, with alacrity.”
While she wanted him to pleasure her, the very notion of something so intimate was beyond her imagining. Society’s expectations of how a lady must behave had rarely bothered her, but still…a moan fractured her thoughts. Had it come from her? She licked her lips swollen from his kisses and grasped fistfuls of his silky, dark-brown hair sliding through her fingers. With incoherent murmurs, she lost herself in the sweet ecstasy, her embarrassment turning to breathless need.
“Leave me some hair, please, sweetheart.”
Ballantine’s warm breath feathered over her skin, his voice a deep rumble. “Like cream silk.” The warmth of his breath was exciting against her soft skin as he pressed his mouth to her inner thigh. His fingers stroked her slick skin, and he pushed a finger inside her. Her stomach and thighs tightened, and shecried out at the rolling explosion of feeling before all thoughts left her in a melting of muscle and bone.
He shushed her with his mouth on hers. Their panting breaths filled the carriage. He groaned, then murmured in her ear something she couldn’t quite make out.I must ask him afterward, she thought. But after he’d delicately bitten her earlobe and planted small kisses along her collarbone, she forgot.
Ballantine breathed heavily as he sat beside her and pulled her to him, his hand cradling her hair. In a state of pure bliss, she curled up against him as her breath slowed and laid her head against his warm chest, listening to the fast beating of his heart. Guilt tugged at her. The hard ridge in his pantaloons pressed against her thigh. Of course he wanted her, but he made no move to act on it. She yearned to touch him there, to lie down with his heavy weight upon her, to have him inside her. Diana swiveled to look up at him. “Can’t I touch you?”
