He backed her against a gigantic oak, caging her by placing his hands on either side of her shoulders. “Showing you that you’re the furthest thing possible from a lonely old widow.”
He swooped down and took her mouth in a ravening kiss. She whimpered under the onslaught. Her fists came up to his shoulders but, to her amazement, she didn’t push him away. Instead, as his mouth devoured hers, tasting her with a hot passion, she felt her fingers open and then dig into the wool of his coat with a desperate grip. When his tongue slid along her lips, teasing, silently asking for her to open, she moaned and melted into him, hanging on with all her rapidly fading strength.
He took her hands and moved them up and around his neck. Their bodies melded together. Need simmered through her veins, eager—even greedy—and his kiss ignited a sweet, painful emotion that had lain dormant. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, pulling his head down to nuzzle his mouth.
His groan of approval vibrated against her quivering lips. Again, his tongue danced across them, seeking entrance. Swept up in the rising tide of desire, she opened for him and he surged inside. A sweet fire, dark and scorching, burned through her limbs and settled deep in her core. Everything inside went soft as their tongues tangled, playing a delicious and forbidden game. He pressed against her, his solid body gently pushing her against the hard trunk at her back.
She flinched as the rough bark dug into her spine. With a murmur, he eased back, teasing her mouth with a slow,impossibly gentle kiss, so tender and sweet that tears gathered under her closed eyelids. That sweetness undid her. The memory of Jeremy, and the last kiss they had shared, forced its way back into her mind.
Her eyes sprang open. Horror and shame flooded her veins. Bad enough she was letting Christian kiss her like this, but out here in the park? In public?
She jerked back, knocking her head against the trunk of the tree.
Startled, Christian broke free. “Jesus, woman,” he gasped. “What are you doing? Did you hurt yourself?”
“Let me go,” she panted. She pushed against him, frantic.
He stepped back immediately. His cheekbones were glazed with a dark flush and his eyes still smoldered, but he looked wary. And worried.
“Sweetheart,” he began.
She cut him off with a sharp chop of her hand. “No, Christian. Don’t say anything more. This never should have happened.”
With trembling hands, she set her bonnet on straight and dodged around him, heading back for the path. He caught up to her, fell in step beside her. The intensely humiliated part of her took comfort in the fact that he was breathing as hard as she was.
“Clarissa, I’m not playing with you,” he said in a low voice. “I’m dead serious about this. I want to be with you. And not because you’re convenient. I’ve felt this way for a long time.”
Anxiety and a strange, sorrowful yearning squeezed the air from her lungs.
“No,” she choked out. “We can’t do this. It’s absurd.”
He grasped her elbow, forcing her to slow her headlong rush out of the park. She sensed the restrained strength in his grip, the desire to drag her to a halt.
“Why not?” he asked in a frustrated voice.
“Do I really have to explain it?”
“Yes.”
She stifled a curse. “You’re young, Christian.” She could feel his gaze bearing down on her, but she refused to meet it. “You have your whole life ahead of you. And I’m—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re old. I swear I’ll do something drastic if you do.”
His voice held a note of warning, but something else, too. He sounded hurt.
She stopped and looked up at him. His eyes blazed with a complex mix of emotions: desire, anger, and pain. The pain of rejection, of not being good enough. She had seen that pain before. Years ago, when he had compared himself to his athletic and dashing older brothers and found himself wanting.
She sighed, both the fight and the fear draining out of her.
“Christian, you honor me. But I’m not ready for what you’re asking of me. I still love Jeremy, and I’m not ready to let him go.”
He towered over her, like a baffled giant. “Will you ever be ready?”
She briefly closed her eyes, letting her guilt and the love she felt for Jeremy bleed through her. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “But I don’t think it could ever be with you. Whatever you might say, you are too young for me.”
His face hardened into an austere mask. In that moment, he looked anything but young.
“You’re wrong, Clarissa. Why do this to yourself?”
“Because I want peace and quiet. Is that so much to ask for?”
He began to argue, but she grasped his arm and gave it a little shake. “Christian, no. I’m begging you. I can’t give you what you want. Please, let’s just be friends, as we have always been.”
She stared up at him, making no effort to hide the desperation behind her plea. His eyes went bleak, but he nodded.
“As you wish.”
Without another word, he took her arm and led her from the park.
