"We should stop."
"We should." But he spun her gently, making her skirts bell out, then drew her back against his chest. "Tell me to stop, Eveline."
She looked up at him, seeing her own desire reflected in his darkened eyes. The rational part of her mind catalogued all the reasons this was a terrible idea, all the ways it could complicate their carefully balanced arrangement.
But stronger than reason was the need that had been building for weeks, the connection that transcended contracts and positions and careful propriety. She rose on her toes, bringing her mouth to his.
"Don't stop," she breathed against his lips.
The kiss exploded between them, weeks of careful control shattering in an instant. His arms tightened around her, lifting her against him as he deepened the kiss with desperate hunger. She responded with equal fervor, her hands tangling in his hair, her body molding to his as if they were made to fit together.
He backed her against the wall, his mouth leaving hers to trail fire down her throat. "Eveline," he groaned against her skin, "you're destroying me."
"Mutual destruction," she gasped as his lips found that sensitive spot where neck met shoulder.
His hands framed her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. "If we don't stop now..."
"I know." But she pulled him back down, kissing him with all the pent-up longing of weeks of careful distance.
Time lost meaning, the world narrowing to sensation—his mouth on hers, his hands in her hair, the solid warmth of his body pressing her into the wall. She felt wild, reckless, completely unlike the controlled scholar she'd always been.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, her hair was thoroughly disheveled and his cravat had disappeared entirely.
"This is madness," she said, though she made no move to leave his embrace.
"Beautiful madness." He pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing gradually slowing. "Marry me."
"You already asked that."
"I'll keep asking until you say yes." He kissed her again, softly this time. "Though I promise to space out the proposals. Perhaps monthly? Weekly seems excessive."
Despite everything, she laughed. "You're impossible."
"And you're perfect. Perfectly maddening, perfectly brilliant, perfectly mine." He stepped back reluctantly, giving her space. "I should take you home before we do something that can't be undone."
***
The carriage ride was torture, sitting properly apart when every fiber of her being wanted to crawl into his lap and continue what they'd started. Adrian kept his distance, though his eyes never left her face.
"Everything has changed so much between us," she said as they pulled upto her lodgings.
"Everything's been changing since the day you walked into my library." He helped her down, his hands lingering on her waist. "The question is what we do about it."
"I don't know," she admitted. "I need time to think. To figure out how to balance everything without losing myself or my work in the process."
"Take all the time you need." He kissed her hand formally, though his eyes promised much more. "I'll be here when you're ready. Always."
She climbed the stairs to her rooms on unsteady legs, her body still humming from his touches. Everything was accelerating, her career, their relationship and the complications that came with both.
In her sitting room, she found the publishing contract still waiting on her desk. She signed it with a steady hand, though her mind was far from steady. Tomorrow she would submit it to Cadwell, officially beginning her journey as a published translator.
But tonight, she allowed herself to remember Adrian's hands in her hair, his mouth on her throat, his voice promising patience and forever in the same breath. The careful boundaries they'd maintained were crumbling, and she couldn't bring herself to rebuild them.
Whatever came next, there would be no more pretending. They were past that now, into territory unmarked by contracts or conditions. It thrilled and terrified her in equal measure.
She prepared for bed still feeling the phantom pressure of his lips, the warmth of his arms around her. Tomorrow would bring new challenges; the museum project to organize, translations to complete, the delicate balance of multiple positions to maintain.
But tonight, she allowed herself to simply feel. To be a woman in love, complicated and inconvenient as that love might be. To imagine a future where her work and her heart might coexist, where marriage to Adrian might enhance rather than diminish her scholarly pursuits.
