“As I told you before, it wouldn’t be proper,” she whispered. Not that anything about their situation was proper. If anyone found out they had been alone together for so long, and in such a state of undress, she would be branded a lightskirt.
It might already be too late, she thought, with a frisson of fear. How was she going to explain arriving with the viscount, soaking wet, without a chaperone? Every minute they waited increased the chances that someone would stumble upon them, or that more guests would arrive and further complicate their return.
I’ve all but ruined myself already.
It was not that she cared about her own reputation. Three years of failing to find a man willing to marry her had chased away her childhood fantasies of securing a husband. But she could not allow her actions to reflect poorly on her sister and aunt.
“Are you still cold?”
Belatedly, she realized she was trembling again, and her breath came in gasps.
“I—It’s not—” She swallowed a huge amount of saliva that had collected in her mouth and then groaned and thumped her forehead on her knees. “It is a problem I have. When things happen that I can’t control, my mind tries to predict every possibility, and I get trapped in a cycle I cannot escape.”
Leo chuckled. “You are so much like her.”
She tilted her head to the side so she could see his face. “Who?”
His soft smile turned down. “My sister. She died three years ago.”
Her heart ached for him. She knew how it felt to grieve a sibling. Losing Basil had torn her apart.
“My advice,” he continued. “Do whatever feels right and don’t worry about the consequences. I never do.” Then he tilted his face toward her and dropped his eyes to her lips, as he had done in every fantasy that she’d had of him.
The temptation was too much to resist.
She fluttered her eyelids closed, angled her face, and pressed her lips to his.
It was nothing like she’d imagined.
His mouth was hard and unyielding, like cold stone. She tried again, desperately reaching for the warmth she’d felt when he’d protected her by the fountain, whispering sweet words that had made her insides feel like jelly. But aside from the muscles bunching in his neck, he gave no reaction.
Disappointed, she pulled back, tucking her arms against her chest and lowering her chin, not wanting him to see the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She had trusted her instincts, and they had failed her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought…”
“You thought what?” His voice was as cold as his lips.
That you wanted me.
“Nothing.” Her voice broke, and she tried to pull away, only to find his arm anchoring her in place. “My lord, what are you doing? Let me go.”
His rejection was embarrassing enough. It simmered in her mind, another reminder that she wasn’t normal, would never be normal. She’d been so sure he had wanted her, but she’d imagined it, seen a spark where there’d been nothing. Facing the depth of his scorn tore at her already fragile confidence.
He’s not different, after all.
“Let me go,” she said again, struggling in his grip as tears dripped from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “It won’t happen again.”
He uttered a strangled curse, then moved his hands from her arms to frame her face. With his thumbs, he brushed away the tears.
“You think too much.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, her nose, then her lips.
She melted beneath his feather-light touch and wound her arms around his neck. Her pulse skittered, making her dizzy with relief. Was it really happening? Or was she dreaming?
One hand cupped her breast, and she gasped. His tongue swept into her mouth and tangled with hers, sending a jolt of heat to her pelvis. He tasted smoky sweet, like a rich brandy, but more intoxicating.
He broke away briefly to pull her into his lap, straddling him. His hands grasped her rear and squeezed, his fingers tantalizingly close to her most sensitive area. It was as she’d dreamed, and so much more. Wetness pooled at the apex of her thighs, and she arched her back, aching for him to touch her there.
