Pulses pounding in anticipation, they sat there for several minutes with the lengths of their sides pressed intimately close and their faces tilted toward one another.
Suddenly, Thomas cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “You know I’ve grown quite fond of you, Nora.” Heart in her throat, she could only nod in response. “The years have afforded us the opportunity to garner an uncommon closeness…a closeness which has come to mean a great deal to me.” Nora remained still, hardly daring to breathe—especially when Thomas’s eyes finally met hers once more. “Nora…” he breathed, using his free hand to tuck a chestnut curl behind her ear. “The thought of you making your debut…of other men paying call upon you drives me mad. I cannot bear to imagine any of them escorting you, flirting with you…” She didn’t think she imaginedthe faint pinkness on his cheeks.Good lord, Thomas was actually blushing! Over her!“I kept telling myself that it was for the best. You deserve to be wooed and courted and danced attendance upon like the princess you are. But today…waltzing with you…holding you in my arms…I faced the truth that nothing—no one—would ever feel so right.” Thomas’s fingers tickled the back of Nora’s neck and she barely managed to stifle a shiver of pleasure before the most wonderful words tumbled from his lips: “May I kiss you, Nora?”
She swallowed thickly and nodded, adding, “Please,” for good measure in case he misunderstood her reply. She needn’t have worried, however, because no sooner had the word taken flight from her lips than his beautiful mouth slanted over hers.
Though she’d been expecting it, the contact was still startling in its passionate urgency. Thomas’s lips were soft, but firm. His hand cupped the back of her neck and his hot body leaned into her. Nora leaned as well, like a sunflower reaching for the light, as she sighed. How long had she hoped he might kiss her? That Thomas would see her as more than his sister’s closest companion? And it was heady to finally learn that he, too, had been pining after her all these years. Her hand curled around his forearm, holding him in place and prolonging the moment.
Thomas broke the contact first, though he didn’t retreat far. He pressed his forehead to hers and their tremulous breaths mingled in the slim space between them. He sighed her name and a shiver danced up and down her spine. She’d never thought her name could be so…sensuous.
Could make her tingle.
Unable to resist, Nora wound her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to meet hers once more. The action seemed to cause his restraint to snap.
Gone was the tentative, chaste behavior reserved for their first kiss. This one spoke of years of aching desire and something else Nora felt but was unable to name. Whatever it was made her skin zing with awareness at every point Thomas touched her; her flesh flushed with sudden overwhelming heat when his tongue—histongue—swept across the seam of her lips; her thighs pressed together in a vain attempt to assuage the ache that blossomed there when Thomas uttered a deep groan of approval when she allowed him access to her mouth.
His tongue began stroking hers and, while it took Nora several seconds to settle in, she’d always been a quick study. She learned his rhythm and began responding in kind to every stroke. He tasted of tea and Cook’s shortbread—sweet and buttery and warm.
“Good God, Nora,” Thomas hissed in between kisses. He pressed his thumb at the point where her jaw met her throat, guiding her to tilt her head slightly and provide him with better access for his machinations. She might have been worried her technique was inadequate, but, as always, Thomas had a way of making her comfortable. It emboldened her. They took turns nipping and tasting, savoring their newfound connection and sinking into the realization of long-held desires.
Once again, Thomas had to be the reasonable one and he broke the kiss. Both of them were panting, and Thomas had to clear his throat before he could speak. “We should stop,” he rasped and adjusted his seat. Nora barely resisted the urge to fan her flaming cheeks.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” Thomas rushed to reassure her and took her hands in his, engulfing them in his large palms. “Not at all.” He glanced over her shoulder at the house. “I wouldn’t wish you to be embarrassed if we were to be happened upon.”
“Oh.” Nora’s cheeks burned brighter. She’d entirely forgotten that they were not the only two beings in the world. She cast her eyes down and watched as his blunt thumb circled the petite bumps of her knuckles. She gnawed on her kiss-plumped lower lip, thrilled that she could still taste a hint of Thomas there. “What does this mean for us?” she asked, feeling embarrassingly naive. Thomas’s reaction, however, only solidified her feelings for him.
Crooking a finger beneath her chin, he raised her face so she had no choice but to meet his ice-blue eyes. “What do you want this to mean?” Nora opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her with, “And tell the truth, not what you think you are supposed to say.”
She couldn’t help but offer him a small smile. “I want more of this…” she replied, her cheeks heating uncomfortably until she saw Thomas’s brilliant smile.
“As do I.”
Emboldened by his reaction and his response, she forged on. “And…I’ve never imagined any man other than you being the one who danced attendance.”
His deep chuckle made her shiver. “What tricks will you have me do to earn another kiss?” he asked, cupping her cheek in his large palm.
“Are you able to stand on your head? Juggle?” she asked, tapping a finger on her chin in a thoughtful expression. Thomas’s laugh that time was full-bodied and earth-shakingly attractive.
Was this flirting? If it was, she never wanted it to end.
“For you, Princess? I shall endeavor to learn.” His breath tickled her lips as he leaned in again.
Chapter Four
Nora eyed the uneven dirt road, careful not to turn her ankle, as she continued on her afternoon walk. The late-Summer week had been remarkably hot and dry, and every step kicked up puffs of brown dust, coloring the hem of her pastel-blue dress. Her maid would have a fit about it, but it was far from the worst thing she’d gotten on her skirts. The prior week, she and Beth had stumbled upon some wild raspberry bushes and, while both girls had done their best to look contrite, they couldn’t regret the pink splotches covering their clothing and their fingers. Though both girls had just celebrated their eighteenth birthdays two weeks apart, neither could resist the occasional bout of childish mischief while they might still get away with it.
That afternoon, Viscountess Bexton had insisted Beth take a few hours of rest, which meant either Nora found something to occupy herself in the house, or she slipped out of doors to stretch her legs. With as glorious a day as this one, who would blame herfor choosing the latter? Nora never felt as if her friend held her back, but, every now and then, it was nice for her to go as long and as far as she could until her lungs burned and her side ached from the exertion.
“A lady as lovely as yourself should hardly be wandering about unescorted.” A masculine voice made Nora’s head whip up and her heart leap in shock. It quickly dissolved into relieved amusement when she spotted Thomas seated on a stone wall bordering the road less than ten feet ahead of her. She’d been so absorbed in her progress that she likely would have walked past him without noticing had he not called out to her.
“Thomas! You startled me,” she admonished and approached him, suddenly wishing she wasn’t quite so rumpled and windblown from being out of doors. He wore nothing but a white linen shirt with fitted buff breeches tucked into his tall dark brown boots scuffed from use; even so casually dressed he appeared handsome beyond her wildest imaginings.
“You should be more careful walking these roads.” His tone was filled with dramatic severity. “All kinds of rapscallions wander these parts.”
“Do they?” Nora cocked a brow and propped a fist on her hip. She was so close she could smell the warm, heady scent of his skin. “Pray tell, what sorts of rapscallions are we discussing?”
Thomas pushed himself off the wall and leaned toward her as if imparting knowledge of great import. A lock of his dark hair danced before his piercing blue eyes as if it were being ruffled by a lover’s fingers instead of the warm breeze. “Any number of men who would be willing to take advantage of a beautiful lady. Highwaymen. Thieves. Kidnappers. Rakes.”
