She kissed like a woman who knew what she wanted, and he thought he’d go crazy from the sensation of her warm breath drifting over the damp patch she’d made on his throat.
He had to let her go.Now.
But he was losing this battle, losing himself to her with every heated breath that passed between them, and instead of letting her go as a proper gentleman should, he eased her backward until she was against the wall behind them, his body pressed closely against hers so he could feel the shape of her thighs and her breasts and dear God, she felt so good, so perfect, her slender curves softening his hard angles, her belly cradling his erection.
She moaned, and he whispered to her, his mouth hot against her ear. “I’ve thought of you, too. Of touching you here.”
He teased his finger over the modest scooped neckline of her dress, lingering at the place where the dark green linen gave way to her silky skin. “I could spend hours here, kissing your skin, tracing it with my tongue.”
She sagged against him as if her knees had buckled, and he slid his hand down to her waist, holding her more firmly against him. “Do you taste sweet here, Euphemia?”
She let out a choked whimper. “I-I don’t know.”
“Shall I tell you?” He bent over her, dropping a tender kiss over the hollow of her throat.
“Yes.” She caught a handful of his hair, and dragged his head down, toward the tempting shadows between her breasts. “Please.”
He was so close, so close to tasting that silky skin?—
“…mistress has asked that we see to it the stained glass window at the end of the hallway is cleaned, Becky.”
Euphemia tensed against him. “James.”
He froze. Two sets of footsteps were coming down the hallway.
“You may as well begin on the windows in the ballroom. We’re sure to have a ball in there before season’s end. I’ll send Sarah upstairs to help you.”
“Yes, Mr. Watkins.”
There was a pause, then a moment later one of the housemaids passed the ballroom and continued toward the far end of the hallway. Thankfully, she didn’t glance inside, and Watkins must have gone to fetch the other housemaid because he didn’t appear.
James looked down at Euphemia, still clasped in his arms. Her eyes were wide, and the fetching pink color had drained from her cheeks.
What was hedoing? They were standing in his aunt’s house, where anyone could come across them at any time, and he’d been about to… what? Lower her bodice? Undress her? Then what? Would he have hiked her skirts up, and taken her on the ballroom floor?
He eased her out of his arms, but he dropped a kiss on her forehead before he made himself let her go. He had to kiss her again, but he didn’t dare take her lips, or God only knew what would happen.
“Euphemia.” He eased her gently away from him and stepped back, putting a safe distance between them. “I should never have… this went much too far, and I beg your pardon most sincerely.”
She looked dazed, her blue eyes hazy, but she shook her head. “It wasn’t only you, James. Although I did try to warn you the waltz was dangerous, did I not?”
He stared at her. Could he have heard her correctly? Had she just made ajoke?
She gave him a hesitant smile. “I begin to understand why Almack’s forbid it for all those years.”
As soon as he saw her smile, all the tension eased out of him. He should be ashamed of himself, and hewas, yet there was that same helpless grin from earlier, curving his lips.
“I’d quite like to learn it still, however,” she went on, casting him a shy glance. “If you’re still willing to teach it to me, that is.”
“Of course, I am.” He held out his hand because he needed to touch her just one more time. She took it, and he squeezed before letting her go. “It would be my honor, Miss Templeton.”
Chapter
Fourteen
TEN DAYS LATER
They were going to be late for Lady Upton’s ball.
