“I—” It was the only word he could manage to drag past his dry, cracked lips before her mouth descended over him again and her rough tongue rubbed him up and down unmercifully. Again and again and again.
Sweet Mother of God. The woman was going to kill him. They’d find his dead body in this bed in the morning. But it would be worth it. So bloody well worth it.
She pulled her mouth away once more. “Let’s find out, shall we?” she teased.
Shall we, what? He couldn’t think straight. What had she said? What did she mean?
“Let’s find out what happens if I keep doing this,” she said as if she’d read his mind, just before her mouth descended again and Christian’s head fell back, twisting against the pillow.
She sucked him hard and his hips arched up. She rubbed her tongue up and down against him. If only it hadn’t been so long since he’d been with a woman. If only it weren’tSarahsucking his cock as though she’d been born to do it. If only she weren’t so bloody good at it. He grasped the back of her head and groaned just before he spilled his seed inside her hot, wet, delicious mouth.
Sarah didn’t try to pull away. In fact, she kept sucking him until the last of the shudders racked his body. It was good. Oh, so good. Then she leaned up on an elbow and smiled at him, obviously pleased with herself.
What did one say to a woman, an innocent no less, who had just… “You can spit—”
She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Too late.” Her lips glistened with him.
He watched in awe as she leaned up, her dark curls spilling over her perfect breasts, and kissed him fully on the mouth. “Now we’re even,” she said with a wide smile.
“I’ve never in my life experienced anything…” But his hoarse words trailed off, and instead he just pulled her into his arms. Her head rested on his chest, directly under his chin. He kissed the top of her head.
“What do we do now?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
His heart still pounded. “What do you want, Sarah?”
***
Sarah pulled away from him, leaned up on an elbow again, and stared down at his handsome face. Her heart was lodged firmly in her throat. The answer to the question she was about to ask would determine their entire future. “Do you love me, Christian? Can you say you love me?”
His face froze, as if time had stopped. The only sound for several seconds was her breathing. His had seemed to stop. He rolled away from her and stood up. He grabbed his breeches from the floor and pulled them on. He tugged at the waist of them and cursed savagely under his breath.
Sarah pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness. Tears filled her eyes as she watched him pace away from her, fiercely scrubbing a hand through his hair. She didn’t know exactly what reaction she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. For some inexplicable reason, she’d told herself that perhaps when she’d asked him earlier at the cottage, he simply hadn’t been ready. Hadn’t been prepared. But he’d had all day to think about it. And hestillcouldn’t say it? When he spoke, his words were measured, calm. “You said yourself that marriages don’t have to be based on love. We have passion, we have friendship.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “You don’t love me,” she whispered brokenly, pulling the sheet up to partially cover her face.
He cursed again. “I didn’t say that. I don’t know what I—”
“Yes, you do. Be honest. You owe me that much. You owe yourself that much.” With the back of her hand, she swiped at the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “All this time, all this time I’ve wondered why you’ve remained a bachelor. Why you couldn’t find a wife. Why you became friends with all of the ladies you should be courting. I couldn’t understand it. It seemed like a mystery. But I finally understand. Youwantto remain unmarried. Youwantto remain aloof, friendly. You don’t let anyone in… on purpose. And then you act as if you’re surprised that you haven’t found a wife. It’s never been about your clothes or your boots or even your reputation. Do you want to know the real reason you aren’t married yet, Christian? Look in the mirror.”
She leaped from the bed and grabbed her night rail. She hastily pulled it over her head. The dressing gown soon followed. She pulled it over her shoulders and tied it around her waist. Then she rushed toward the door. Her eyes were blurry with her tears. She placed her fingers on the handle, then turned back to look at Christian one last time.
His hands were on his hips. He was staring at the floor. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Sarah, don’t—”
But she didn’t listen. All she knew was that she had to get back to her room. Hopefully without being seen. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Tried to banish her foolish tears. She pulled opened the door and glanced out. The corridor was empty and cool. It smelled like lemons and wood polish.
“Sarah—” Christian’s voice followed her into the corridor, but she didn’t stop. She ran as fast as she could down the hallway, past a blurry set of bedchamber doors. Just as she was about to turn the first corner, a man came around it. She collided with his chest, and he grappled to save her from toppling over.
“My dear Miss…” The man righted her, then stepped back.
She looked up, terrified, her heart pounding so hard in her chest that it hurt. It was Rafe Cavendish. Wait. No. It wasn’t Rafe. This man’s hair was too long to be Rafe. It was… Cade, Rafe’s twin. Cade glanced at her, her flimsy attire, her bare feet, her disheveled hair, then he looked down the corridor. Sarah looked, too, to see Christian half-dressed standing at the door, staring out with an equally horrified look on his face.
“Well, well, well,” Mr. Cavendish said, a positively roguish grin on his face.
Terror kept words from forming in Sarah’s dry throat. She simply stared at him, aghast. This was it. The moment her entire life could be ruined… or saved. “Mr. Cavendish, I… We…”
“I beg your pardon, Lady Sarah,” Mr. Cavendish said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seems I’ve stumbled upon a most inopportune moment.”
“Cavendish,” Christian called from the doorway, his voice a harsh, pleading whisper.
