This time the words barely emerged. “Much too close.”
Closer again, until her breasts pressed into his chest, until she could feel the thrum of his heart beneath his linen shirt. “And this?” he whispered, before his mouth claimed hers.
Chapter 15
He should have let her go. He’d known that from the second he’d opened his mouth to call her back. It had been torture enough being with her these past hours, wanting her and yet keeping himself aloof. It should have been a relief to be through with it all.
Yet when she’d turned to leave, he’d been filled by a panic so all-consuming, he’d reacted without thinking.
Now she was in his arms, and nothing had ever felt so right. Her lips were soft, giving beneath the pressure of his. She tasted of heaven, all sweetness and light, chasing away the darkness in his soul. Gone was the anger, the hate that had kept him going for so long. In its place was only need for her.
He cupped her cheek with his hand, felt the softness of her skin under his touch. The bones of her face were so fragile and fine, her hair like silk where it brushed his fingers. He deepened the kiss, urging her lips open, his every move careful, gentle, afraid to mark her with his roughness.
But she arched up into him, eager and frantic, and he felt the strength in her. Her fingers gripped tightly to his hair, the muscles of her back moved beneath his hands, lithe and powerful.
It was only when her tongue pushed through the barrier of his lips and touched his own, however, that the truth of her feelings came crashing down on him: she wanted him.
The realization drove him over the edge of sanity. He groaned and wrapped his arms about her, hauling her even closer, until there was not an inch of space between them. Their tongues sparred, clashed, her body pushing against his as if she couldn’t get close enough.
But he needed more of her. He tore his mouth free, trailed his lips across her cheek to the sensitive spot beneath her ear, nipped her skin with his teeth before moving lower. She gasped, small sounds of surprise and pleasure escaping her lips. Her head fell back, offering him what he was so desperate to take.
But he couldn’t. He pulled back, his chin dropping to his chest, his breath coming in hard pants. His hands crushed the delicate material of her gown and a soft curse broke free. What the hell was he doing? He was determined to remain unwed, to kill off the Ashford line, to destroy the dukedom. If he took Lenora as he so desperately wanted to, he would have to marry her. His honor would not let him do anything else.
A vision of that life rose up, being married to Lenora. Having her in his bed every night, enjoying her laughter and conversation every day. Raising a family with her, growing old with her.
The temptation of it stunned him. He might have jerked away from her, might have stumbled from the room with, if not his pride intact, at least with his heart unscathed.
If she hadn’t whispered, “Peter.”
He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to hear his name on her lips, how desperate he was that she should see beyond “Mr. Ashford” to the person he was beneath. Proof positive that, no matter his wishes on the matter, she had already touched his heart.
But in this moment, with her in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
His mouth came down open on the delicate place her neck met her shoulder. How could a woman taste like this, feel like this? She was like an angel come down from heaven, all stardust and sugar-spun clouds. He laved kisses over her collarbone, then lower, over the slight swell of her breasts at the edge of her gown. The skin there was so soft, he wanted to weep. She made a needy sound in her throat, rising up to meet his questing lips. He could so easily pull the bodice down, free her breast to his sight and touch.
He growled low, letting the sound of it ripple over her skin. She gasped in response, her fingers digging into the linen of his shirt, as if she would tear the material from him.
So much passion. He hadn’t expected it from her, had never thought her capable of it. But it was here, boiling over in his arms, until he could hardly think straight.
“My God, I want you,” he rasped, pulling back. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed.
It was then he saw the tears glistening on her cheeks. The trails of them winked in the lantern light, mocking him, berating him for his size, his roughness.
In an instant, he released her. She stumbled a step, righting herself. She was so damned beautiful standing there, her clothing rumpled, her mouth swollen from kisses. But his gaze was drawn to those tears. Proof that he should never have touched her, that he had no right to anything so lovely and pure and good.
Without a word, he turned and strode from the room, leaving the light behind him, letting the darkness of the house beyond swallow him up.
***
Lenora would never know how she made it to her room. Yet somehow she did, even managing to dress in her nightclothes, extinguish her light, and bury herself under her covers.
Sleep, however, wouldn’t come. Nor would her mind pay heed to her demands that it not think of Peter.Peter.Yes, he could be nothing else to her now. No mereMr. Ashfordwould do. In the space of an instant, his importance had shifted to something more. Much more.
But that wasn’t true, was it? For the shift had begun before tonight, perhaps even from the first moment she’d stumbled into him and felt her world tilt even as he righted her. He had been working his way under her skin ever since, until it all coalesced into something hot and undeniable.
And with that came the memory of lips and hands, and the magic Peter had wrought on her.
Suddenly too hot, her skin too sensitive, Lenora threw back the covers. She focused on the sound of the waves outside her window, matching her breathing to them, trying to calm her body’s reaction. But not even Mother Nature’s power could dampen Peter’s effect on her. His every touch, every caress, had pulled a response from her that had frightened her with its intensity.
