Page 12 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

“But… that would mean you not only needed to find a woman that you were willing to marry, but find a way to arrange a compromising situation, and getting caught… I can see that would be a challenge – as much of a challenge as it is for me to find a man that I am willing to marry, and get him to the point of offering in time to save me.”

“You can see why I did not want to discuss such things in a public situation. I felt such understanding when you spoke, yet I know that most might not. And, if I am truthful, I wanted, even so soon after meeting you, to speak to you again, to be private with you, to… kiss you… and more.”

Selina felt the blush rise to her cheeks. His eyes held hers, and that dangerous looking smile played across his lips. A shiver ran through her, and odd flutterings filled her stomach. She ached for his touch, and damnably, she was quite certain that he could tell. As if to confirm her thoughts, he lifted his hand to gently stroke her cheek, and her neck, sliding it around to hold the back of her head, and draw her to him. His lips met hers, and stole her ability to think. The kiss was, somehow, even more heated than the first one.

She found herself actively kissing him, not simply being kissed. He groaned softly as her tongue traced his lips, as his had traced hers, and his other hand followed the curve of her body, a caress that left heat in its wake, and made her quiver. When his hand slid along the side of her breast, and his fingers slowly, deliberately brushed over its hardened peak, a soft moan of pleasure escaped her. He deepened the kiss, and repeated that deliberate brush of his fingers. She felt heat flood her body, and was glad that they were sitting, for she suspected that, otherwise, she would have fallen limp at his feet.

As it was, she melted against him, hungry for more. Fleetingly, she remembered Lord Egremont, and knew that, compared to this, the man had been a fumbling incompetent. The man who held her now knew, exquisitely, exactly what he was doing.

When they finally drew apart, he was breathing hard, and his eyes held hers with a look of hunger.

“Lady Selina, you should go. If you stay, I cannot guarantee my honourable behaviour – I could so easily want more, with you. And, no matter what I am considering, I will not ruin you, just to sate my desire – no matter how much I might wish to, if things were different.”

Selina looked at him, unconsciously licking her lips, and considered his words. He was right – she should go. The fact that all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and kiss him again was immaterial. She could not afford to be ruined, especially not by a man who could not marry her, for the sake of a passing moment of passion. And surely, that was what she had just experienced. For they were both trapped, and he had made it clear that he had not met a woman he was willing to marry, even if it took a compromise to achieve it. And that meant that she was, in some way, unacceptable to him. A curl of sadness wrapped itself around her heart, but she simply nodded.

She would think it through later. For now, she would savour what she had experienced, and treasure moments with him, however they happened - for, of everyone she knew, he was the only one who truly seemed to understand her dilemma. Something must have shown on her face. She looked away.

For a moment, he had looked almost as sad as she felt – but surely not. Men had so much more choice about things – although he did seem just as trapped as she. He rose from the seat, she looked up, and he offered his hand. She took it, and he drew her up, pulling her into his arms for a moment, just to hold her. Then he stepped back and brushed his lips over hers, butterfly soft, before lifting her candle and handing it to her.

The flickering light cast his face in harsh planes, and for a moment she thought that she saw despair, but then the sardonic smile was back. He bowed to her, all elegance, and led her to the door. She slipped out and made her way through the empty corridors to her room, passing no one, not even a dozing footman, although she was certain that at least one was on duty somewhere.

Her bed seemed cold and empty, her body still warm from his touch, and aching for more of the pleasure he had given her. Sleep was long in coming, but brought with it even more intense dreams than usual, where he did far more than kiss her.

~~~~~

Alex leaned back against the closed door and quietly cursed himself. He was rock hard and aching. He wanted her, moreso than he had wanted any woman for a very long time. But she was, almost, a complete innocent. He could tell from her reactions – delightful, and completely unpractised, unstudied – which made her touch all the more arousing.

He would not ruin her. But he was not at all sure that he could manage to stay away from her.