Bracing her hand on his shoulder for balance, she brought her face close, reluctant to tell him she wore spectacles for reading.
He had not been gentle with her, not in the way society prized for portraiture. His strokes were bold, decisive, and yet there was a forgiveness for the subject, a softness that lived beneath the strength. She seemed…alive, as though she might step free of the page. Surprisingly, the gown he’d drawn wasn’t the one she wore. This one belonged to his imagining, looser, more fluid, spilling over her hips and down her legs before pooling at her feet like the sea.
It was fantasy in charcoal.
Her eyes—his version of them—were alight, mischief caught there, her lips curved into something just shy of a smile. Not innocence, but not quite brashness either. As though she knew exactly what she was doing, when she knew nothing of the sort.
He leaned in beside her, close enough that the warmth of him pressed along her arm, and smoothed out a line with the pad of his thumb before blowing a soft breath across the page to clear the dust.
The move embedded itself in her skin.
How to tell him he was far more talented than she’d allowed? That he’d seen her, then sought to remake her in shadow and light? “You made me beautiful.”
Ren blinked, his pupils widening until the blue went dark as night around them, then he reached for her hand and drew a small, imperfect rose on the inside of her wrist. “Youarebeautiful, Gia. More than any woman I’ve ever known.”
Georgiana shifted—a small, thoughtless adjustment that brought her into his space—and his attention broke, his hand sliding to her hip before he could stop it. They stood like that, his touch a single point of startling awareness…until whatever held him in check gave way.
Ren dragged her out of the room and into the narrow space beneath the attic stairs, his grip unrelenting until her back met the paneled wall. His gaze dropped to her mouth, breath rough, control slipping. “I shouldn’t?—”
“Youshould,” she whispered, her heartbeat echoing in her ears.
So he did.
6
Affection
His lips found the fluttering pulse beneath her ear as he whispered things that would have scandalized a ballroom, things no one in society would have imagined of him.
You’re going to ruin me for anyone else.
I want to kiss you. Everywhere.
Your body should be worshipped.
Ren felt crazed. Unsettled. Jubilant.
Knowing how rare this connection was, he tried to extend the moment before reality intruded, ending it all. Instead of diving into a kiss that would wash away his restraint, he bathed in her teasing scent, lavender and the clean cut of citrus. Traced the delicate veins that ran into the deep vee of her cleavage. Learned the shape of her, that crooked tooth undoing him, as he gave himself to her.
Suspending time, he leaned back, allowing the corridor’s sconce to gild her in a golden glow. Georgiana faced him with more confidence than a young woman should possess, her smile knowing withoutreason. It made him imagine tangled sheets, her wrists caught in his hands as he held her there, his mouth at her neck, claiming more than he ought.
Her body was a revelation, her mind an enticement. Her exuberance agift.
Ren desired her in ways he’d not counted on desiring in this lifetime.
She had no clue what she was igniting in him. He’d done something he’d never imagined doing and drawn on her skin, bringing his passion for her and his passion for art into the same haunting realm.
He cradled her face in his palms, lifting her eyes to his so she wouldn’t misinterpret the warning. His words were for her alone as his son lay nearby, and he would say them only once.
“I’m going to kiss you, Gia Harrington, without the past or the future stealing in. A kiss to remember, honesty in the only way I can give it. Then you’re going to leave me to my solitude and find the man meant for you. Younger, certainly wiser.Better.” Crowding his body into hers in the intimate space, he captured her lips before she could argue, knowing she’d been about to start an argument they’d both lose.
Woefully, she surpassed his dreams.
Where Georgiana was bold in life, she was shy here, letting him lead. He teased apart her lips, smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks, the effort to deepen the contact consuming them both. She rose onto her toes, lifted her arms to circle his shoulders, her fingers sliding into his hair to scrape his scalp, each touch undoing him.
He’d been a foolish lad the last time a kiss felt substantial, when he’d wanted nothing more. His thoughts weren’t on what came next—clothing discarded, emotions shelved, bodies entwined. Finished.
This was the genuine article, thepresent, he recognized with some dread.
