Her lungs expanded as she breathed in deeply, then deflated with a pleased, satisfied sigh. His kiss was all-consuming, chasing all thoughts out of her head. He petrified her, and she waited for his command to move.
Her heartbeat was her clock. It had slowed, counting down to quiet instead of panic. After three heavy beats, like a cock announcing the break of dawn, it crowed to life, and she instantly felt a jolt pulse through her.
Suddenly, his touch became chaste, too gentle.
Her body burned with a need she didn’t understand. Her nipples pebbled, and the friction of her dress stole her breath.
She leaned into him, the heat and hard press of his body easing the tension a fraction. She gasped when his hands slid down her body and cupped her backside. His grip was tight and greedy, squeezing, caressing.
She needed it. She neededhim.
She opened her mouth and let his tongue slide against hers.
Suddenly, Adair wrenched back, as if remembering himself. Emily tried to catch her breath, panting. He kept his hand on the nape of her neck, staring into her eyes. And she took it as him asking for permission, asking for more.
She was ready to cave. Her legs had already gone weak; she needed to rest them. So she touched the waistband of his pants, only for him to jerk away like her fingers had shocked him through the fabric.
Did he know her intention? Had she made a mistake?
She leaned her weight against the desk, unable to keep herself up without his help. The morning was drafty, and her breath plumed in the air. She could still taste him on her tongue—a hint of scotch, mint, and wood.
The room was quiet except for their panting. She crouched to pick up her comb, which had fallen at her feet. She noticed then how in the morning light, her chemise was rendered transparent. The cream of her thighs glowed through the ivory fabric.
She rose, swallowing thickly.
Adair looked out at the rising sun. “Come,” he said, “let’s get ye to yer chambers.”
“Aye.” She nodded, running a hand down her chemise.
He moved, and she silently followed behind him. Out the door, up the stairs, through hallways, then more hallways, until they stopped outside her room.
She did not know why she held her door, smiling at him. It was not an invitation, but an attempt to ease the sudden tension that had wound them. She didn’t know what to do or where they stood now that they had crossed such a line.
Adair did not come in. He took a step back and waited for the door to close. She nodded and shut the door, the smile dropping from her face.
Immediately, she pressed an ear to the wood and listened for his footsteps just like she’d done before she’d tailed him to his study. When she could no longer hear him, she ran across her roomand peered out the window. The sun had properly risen at that point, and she was afforded the view of his room.
The door swung open, and Adair stepped inside, his shirt hanging off his shoulders. He paced his room as he struggled to take it off, looking restless. The aggressiveness made her imagine him throwing the thing into the fire. He dashed it to what she suspected was his bed if his room looked anything like hers, then he turned his back.
She should have looked away at that point. Instead, she froze, though her mind told her it was wrong to look at him the way she did. Something told her he would not want her to witness the sight, but she was riveted.
To think she had felt those muscles beneath her palms just minutes ago.
Her fingers clenched as she reveled in the memory of her nails digging into his back. She could almost feel his heat, the tautness of his tan skin.
Because she did not want to give herself a reason to dash out of her room and across the halls, she lifted her head, intending to turn away… and gasped. The scene was too much for her eyes to handle, so she spun around. She touched a hand to her chest, in a bid to settle her heart.
Adair had pulled off his belt and dropped his breeches, and that brief glimpse of his bare arse startled her.
It’s just a little nudity. Ye’ve seen worse.
Indeed, she had, because in the orphanage, they had a communal bath they often shared. But in this case, she had seen the bare body of a man she thought handsome.
She tried to calm herself, but her legs did not obey. She fell under the glass panes with a force that should have shattered them, but only elicited a thud.
Adair whipped around, and she immediately hid herself, pressing her back against the wall beside the windowsill. He could not have seen her. Sunlight should reflect off the windows at this hour, rendering them opaque. Still, did it hide her?
Daringly, she peeked through a square panel to find his curtains drawn.
