His stare was bright and swirled with mysterious depths. His jaw was taut, the muscles bunched and released as he gazed into her eyes. Yet, despite his intensity, the caress of his thumb against her cheek was gentle.
A textured rawness was in his voice as he whispered, “No regrets, sweetheart.”
Though her lashes fluttered with the self-protective instinct to look away, Eleanor held his stare. Parting her lips, she took a deep breath and released it slowly. Then she placed her hand to his face, mimicking how he held hers. Dropping her focus to his mouth, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his.
His sigh mingled with her soft exhale. She slid her tongue over his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth. His grunt of satisfaction warmed her. The heat and hardness of his erection jutted against her hip, but he did nothing to force the kiss further, taking only what she offered.
When she pulled away, she was breathless and heated. “No regrets,” she replied thickly. Then her lashes lowered and she added a quiet, “Thank you.”
His chuckle was low and rumbly. “Sweetheart…I should be thanking you.”
She blinked her gaze back to his. “But I…you didn’t…you’re still…” She couldn’t finish. She simply didn’t have the words.
“Don’t worry about me,” he replied gruffly, his hand flexing over her hip. “I’ll manage. But I should probably wait a few minutes before we leave this room.”
“Of course.” Heat blushed her cheeks as she scooted out of his lap and he let her.
Averting her gaze, she busied herself with replacing the book in its protective box, then she slowly stood on shaking legs to return the box to the cabinet. By the time she turned around, the viscount had also stood. Despite a slight rumpling of his clothing, he looked as he should. Starkly handsome. Confident. Composed. Seemingly unconcerned.
As if they hadn’t just…done what they did.
But then she looked into his eyes.
It was all still there.
The ferocity. The piercing hunger. The possessive desire.
Damn if she didn’t burst back into flames of wanting in a second. Wanting and total confusion. Because she had no idea what any of this meant.
*
Phin could feelher distress, but he couldn’t confidently interpret it. Not when she kept averting her gaze.
A degree of awkwardness had returned to her movements and manner—something that had been completely absent while she’d been unraveling in his arms—but he wasn’t exactly certain of the cause. It could have been due to the challenge of walking back through the ducal mansion after such an intimate interlude. Or it may have been something else.
Though he maintained a demeanor of propriety and kept a proper distance, they never once encountered a servant or anyone else. When they finally reached the grand entry hall to find it as empty as when he’d arrived, he reached out to take her hand.
“Eleanor.”
He felt the way her body flinched at his touch or maybe the familiar use of her name. But then she turned that dark, expressive stare in his direction.
Desire instantly flowed hot and heavy through his blood. He didn’t think he’d ever again be able to look into her eyes and not hear her sultry sighs of pleasure or recall the soft, slick heat of her clenching his fingers or relive the way her body soaked into his.
When he said nothing more, she furrowed her elegant brows in a questioning expression. But he saw the shadow of vulnerability in her eyes. “My lord?”
He lowered his chin. “Phin.”
There was a long pause. “Phin. What is it?”
He had no idea. Or maybe he did, but wasn’t prepared to acknowledge it. For that reason, he swiftly redirected his thoughts and said the first thing that came to mind.
“I want to thank you. For sharing that piece of your family history with me.”
Tension rippled through her and her lashes flickered.
He’d said the wrong thing—he was an idiot. But the right thingwas also very, very wrong, so he forced himself to remain stoic despite the tightness in his stomach as he waited for her response.
There was a poignant intensity to her regard. So different from how she’d looked as she’d trembled in his hands. And for perhaps the first time in his life, he felt a bit awkward himself as he wondered what she was thinking of him in that moment. What she felt about what they’d just shared?
