He sucked in a breath, unprepared for her suggestion. “You drive a hard bargain, my lady.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded, “but I will not marry a man who cannot appreciate me for who I am, and neither should you.”
“Marry a man? God no!”
Her laughter was immediate, completely unpretentious, and filled with the sort of happiness that was only made possible when one was completely comfortable in the other person’s company. He loved that he’d made her feel that way and couldn’t resist pulling her toward him. Indeed, he’d been struggling not to do so the entire evening, the memory of her warm body from the day before tempting him every second that they were together.
So his arms found their way around her, hugging her close until she was flush against the length of him, her face buried against the black wool of his cloak. He could feel her chest rising and falling just as unevenly as his, her heartbeat vibrating through him until it matched the beat of his own.
Chapter9
Mary had never doubted that she was a romantic at heart. But with the turn her life had taken in recent years and the fact that she’d never met a man who’d made her heart flutter before, she’d long since realized that she would probably never marry. She certainly wouldn’t make a lifetime commitment to someone for anything less than love. And then her brother had gotten into financial trouble and she’d dismissed the idea of marriage completely.
But now, wrapped in Richard’s warm embrace, there was no doubt that her heart was fluttering. As for love... she was beginning to suspect that it might not be long before that particular emotion enveloped her completely. Which was strange, not only because she had no notion of who Richard was or what he looked like, but because they’d only just met three days prior. Yet somehow, in a strange and almost magical way, she already felt as though she’d known him forever.
Inhaling his scent, she leaned back, forcing him to loosen his hold. For a long moment, she gazed up at the silver mask that concealed his features, desperately wishing that he’d take it off—remove the barrier that stood between them.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice soft and husky as it curled its way around her like smoke.
“Nothing.” She refused to push him before he was ready.
“Now you are being dishonest.” His hand caught hold of her chin as she started to look away, holding her face steady as he gazed back into her eyes. “Tell me what it is.”
Swallowing, she allowed a few breaths to pass before saying, “Very well. I was thinking that I would like for you to kiss me.” Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Her pulse leapt at the realization of what she’d just said. “Forgive me. That was... too forward.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he murmured, his thumb gently stroking along her jaw until she feared her knees might buckle. “I have thought of little else myself, since holding you in my arms last night.”
“You kissed my neck.” She sounded breathless, and indeed she was. The memory of what he’d done—the acknowledgment of it—was making it near impossible for her to function properly.
“It was not enough.” His statement, the simplicity of it, the boldness, was almost more than she could bear. His thumb stilled against her cheek. “Have you ever been kissed before? Properly, that is? By a man who desires you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
His eyes held hers for what seemed like an eternity before he suddenly dropped his hand and stepped away. “I think the river must lead toward the sea,” he said as he headed toward the steps with his lantern.
Mary blinked as she watched him go. What on earth had just happened? Feeling somewhat unraveled, she went after him. “Did I say something wrong just now?” she asked, unable to comprehend the sudden shift in mood.
Reaching the embankment, Richard crossed to the boat and began inspecting it. “Not at all,” he said without looking at her. “I think this must have been here for many years. It is in pretty bad shape—part of the wood has rotted away.”
“Then why are you acting so strange?”
He ran his fingers along the edge of the boat. “I do not think that I am, all things considered. After all, we have just discovered a river and a boat beneath Thorncliff Manor. There is also a tunnel just over there, in case you failed to notice it yet. Do you not agree that what we have found demands further investigation?”
Frustrated, she almost stomped her feet. “Well yes, but that is not what I was referring to, and you know it.”
He sighed then, his head dipping a little as if in surrender. “You fear being alone with Rotridge, and yet you have clearly placed your trust in me. Why is that?”
“I do not know,” she said. “Perhaps because you are the one who has saved me from Rotridge’s unwelcome advances twice already.”
He shook his head and then grunted. “You are naïve if you think that you are safe in my company.”
Her eyes widened at this, surprised by the harshness of his voice. He studied her a moment before adding, “For the last five years, I have been celibate, and then I meet you, a woman who tempts me in every possible way. You would be a fool not to fear me.”
Squaring her shoulders, she held her ground. “And yet I find myself incapable of doing so.”
A long pause followed, and then, “You claim that you want me to kiss you.” There was a bitter undertone to his words that made her shiver. “Wait until you see my face and you will reconsider.”
She shook her head. “No. I will not.”
