Page 61 of Tempting Her Viscount

“Why would they? I’ve told you many times, you make a bigger thing than it is.”

“You can’t understand, being perfect as you are, how it feels to be imperfect.”

“You’re not bloody imperfect. You have a mark on your face that is part of who you are. Like having brown eyes instead of blue, or brown hair instead of blond.”

“Are you yelling at me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said even louder then frowned. “And also, yes, I am yelling. I’m sorry Celia. I want to be supportive. I want you to find what you need, but perhaps I’m not going to be strong enough to actually help you with this.”

“If it is any matter, I don’t think any of the Gamby men will suit. They were charming and handsome enough, but not for me.”

He nodded. This information brought both relief and disappointment. For while he was glad she was still his, he knew the end was still yet to come.

*

Celia hadn’t feltan attraction to any of the Gamby men. It wouldn’t have been disheartening except she hadn’t been attracted to Mister Kenwood, or Lord Norscot. Lord Wembley had started off rather charming but soon grew overbearing. She didn’t even consider the vicar because he was a vicar and seemed beyond such scandalous things as assignations, despite Kit’s assurance it happened all the time.

Lord MacGregor seemed like a fine candidate until he mentioned being betrothed. And Lord Humphry was much too young.

The night before they were to leave for London, Celia felt disappointed and…restless. Not just restless, but frustrated as well. And at the center of her irritation was Kit.

“It’s our last night here. Would you care to take a stroll through the gardens this evening before we retire?” he suggested.

“No. I think it best that I retire to my rooms. On the other side of the house.” Her voice sounded snappish, especially the last bit. She hadn’t even realized being kept on the other side of the house had annoyed her, but it had.

Did the man think to keep her at a distance so she wouldn’t attack him while he slept? As if she was incapable of keeping her hands off of him. He should be so lucky to be so admired.

Would he take to carrying around a large stick to fend off her advances?

She rolled her eyes and then let out a breath, unsure what had brought about her anger.

Kit hadn’t done anything. Perhaps he’d kept her on the other side of the house so he wouldn’t be tempted to break their agreement. Not that it had been an agreement so much as an edict from him.

She knew she should apologize, but the words wouldn’t come. She was peevish. As if she had missed luncheon, but they had just had dinner. She wasn’t hungry, but some craving lingered and demanded to be fed.

“Is something amiss? You were very quiet during dinner.”

“Was I? I guess I had nothing to say.” Snappish.

Tilting his head as a bird inspected a juicy worm, he stepped closer. “Something is bothering you. Please, tell me.” His hand rested on the back of her arm and she felt the flames of desire spark to life. The fire within built hotter, and words she didn’t even know she’d felt came pouring out of her mouth unchecked.

“Had I known the last time we were together would be our last, I feel I would have savored each second and stored it away to remember later.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” she said unashamedly. “But you made a decision that impacted both of us without discussing it with me. I’m not saying I don’t agree that we should cease intimacies, I just…” She ran out of breath and anger at the same time and now felt a bit foolish.

“Are you proposing we give into desire this one last time so we can make a few final memories to treasure?” He smiled, that naughty turn of his lush lips that made her blood heat so.

“I would not be opposed to such a suggestion.”

“Very well.” He leaned closer until she felt his warm breath in her ear. “Let’s make some memories, countess.”

Immediately, the unrest she’d felt earlier drifted away, in the way the sun burns away the morning haze. Everything was clear again and it was the most natural thing to take his hand and allow him to lead her upstairs to his rooms.

Once there, they didn’t fall into their normal routine of stripping off each other’s clothing in a mad frenzy. Instead, he kissed her lazily as if they had weeks to enjoy each other’s company.

In the far reaches of her mind, she knew it wasn’t so. They would return to London soon enough, and she would have to let him go once and for all. This night, however was theirs.