She could feel him holding himself off, trying to protect her smallness from his great size, but she hiked up her leg, hooking her knee on his hip, pulling him down. She wanted to feel all of him; she wanted his weight to pin her to this rock, to fossilize their embrace.
Their last kiss was hot enough to imprint on stone, a kiss for the ages. It would be forever preserved in her memory. Kissing him was like any of life’s ultimate pleasures; it gave and gave and gave while, at the same time, it was completely without effort.
In the end, he was the one who pulled away. He gave her a final kiss, ground his body against hers, and made a growling noise. He rolled up. He turned his back to her, standing in the water.
Isobel lay on the rock, breathing hard, feeling coolair move over her heated skin. She closed her eyes. She tried to remember every buzz and shimmer before it faded away. The unrequited desire—all the things they hadn’t done—felt almost like pain. He would feel the same. He’d been frustrated before, but now? Now frustration would give way to bitterness, and bitterness would make him resent her. He was too kind for that, so he would pity her instead. Poor Isobel and her pitiful history that had landed them both in misery.
Or perhaps he wouldn’t.
He’d not taxed her with any of the typically male, typically selfish reactions. She’d made near constant refusals to him, and he’d shown only compassion. It was the reason she now found herself on this rock, her body humming.
But even if he was never bitter or resentful or piteous, he would not marry her. This, she knew. And she was no man’s mistress; this she also knew.
If, by some miracle, she ever had a child, the baby would be legitimate and claimed andknown. It would not bumble through life with vague advice on the back of a compass.
Isobel sat up and straightened her dress. She quickly braided her hair and tied it in a knot on top of her head. She glanced at North. He was staring at the mountains in the distance.
“Will you walk with me?” she asked. “We can wade to the place the river bends; there is a waterfall. It is worth seeing. After that, we can walk back. The time will allow some of the water to drain from these clothes.”
She began fishing the fabric and linen from the water, wringing them out, and draping them on the stone in the sun.
“Is that what you want?” he said, turning. His look was earnest; there was no bitterness or resentment. He was so handsome it bent her heart.
“Yes,” she said, flattening the boy’s vest against the rock. “It is what I want.” It was one of the many, many things that she wanted, but likely the only thing she would get.
She added one more thing. “And to talk.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jason struggled to comprehend something as complex aswords.
Also in question: walking and breathing.
As a rule, he drifted through life with a casual manner and a carefree sort of easiness, but underneath it all, he prided himself on self-control. The casualness and the carefree prevailed because, at the end of the day,he wasin control.
Today had felt like the ultimate test. Today, he clung to the splintering timber of self-control like a raft at sea. He was veritably drowning in desire. She was, without question, the most sensual woman he’d ever known. He wanted to swallow her whole.
“So, my father. The earl...” she was saying, walking beside him through the shallow river, the rushing water flashing hot and cold.
He forced himself to focus.
“The earl,” he repeated. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders.
“His lack of guidance or protection wasn’t his greatest fault,” she said, “not really. I can be a... challenge to guide.”
“I’ve noticed this about you,” he said.
He concentrated on the searing water rushing ingusts over his feet and ankles, willing the fog of lust in his brain to clear.
“To explain it, I must go further back than the compass. Honestly, I don’t even remember when he gave the bauble to me. He was a constant presence in our lives for years, and he brought frequent gifts.”
“When you were a child?”
“From infancy, really. Until I was about ten years of age. He did not live with us obviously, but he visited us often. Once a month? More when parliament was in session.”
“Oh yes, he was an outspoken member of the Lords.” Jason’s voice took on the flat, resigned tone.
Isobel glanced at him. “You did not agree with his politics?”
