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Hurt glared from her eyes, and he softened. “Forgive me for being churlish.”
“There is nothing to forgive. You have been dealt heartrending blows, Richard, and you are still standing.”
How he relied on her for comfort. “Thank you for such generosity.”
A gentle smile tipped her lips. “You shall have it always.”
“I must take my leave. I will discreetly slip away through the back gardens.”
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. They both froze at the unexpected intimacy. He could not say what prompted him, for he had never been so familiar with her despite their close friendship. Evie shifted her head slightly, and it brought their lips scant inches apart.
From beneath lowered lashes, her gaze fixed on his mouth with unabashed interest, and he almost roared at the lust that raced through his body and arrowed down to his cock. What in damnation! He wanted her with agonizing ferocity.
“Evie.” The whisper of her name was a benediction, a plea to not tempt his restraint, for he feared he would have none where they were concerned. What had he been thinking to come here? He had been so careful since their acquaintanceship to only stoke the flames of friendship and destroy any embers of passion whenever they tried to flare. Evie was not fashioned to be anyone’s mistress, and he could not succumb to her unwitting lure.
She softly pushed her head against his, nudging him like a sensual feline inviting him to play. Her half smile hinted of feminine desire. God’s blood. Arousal curled like a flame through Richard. Surely she could not be aware of the sensual invitation in her actions.
For the first time since their meeting in that garden, the restraint he’d placed on his desire for her wavered.
…
Evie had long yearned for Richard to kiss her, at least once. She knew nothing would ever come from indulging in such an intimate embrace, for despite their friendship more would not be allowed. He’d fiercely hardened his heart against love, and her parents thought him singularly unsuitable for marriage. Though, since he’d become Lord Westfall and the heir to a dukedom, her mother had been hinting that an alliance might now be welcomed.
If only Evie could soften the heart of this handsome gentleman, who in spite of their close friendship, insisted that the opposite sex was not to be trusted. She had been unable to dent the surety of his convictions through their long correspondence, and although he seemed to admire her, he had made no move to seduce her or even to kiss her.
“I cannot recall if I’ve told you I’m quite glad to see you,” she murmured.
“Evie.” He all but groaned her name. “Step away.”
Acute pleasure coursed through her veins at the knowledge Richard was incapable of moving from her. “No.”
A visible shudder worked through his frame. “I want…”
The pit of her stomach felt strange and fluttery. “Yes?”
His throat worked on a swallow. “I fear I am losing my senses.”
“Are you thinking of kissing me?”
He gave her a long, indecipherable look. “Of course not.”
“I think you are,” she rebutted softly, wanting to press her lips to his. All the kisses she had received had been stolen by overzealous suitors and had been quite unpleasant. It would be a curious change to offer such an intimacy instead of it being taken. More importantly, she wanted to hold and comfort Richard, to drain away the pain and tension that held him rigid.
“Behave yourself, Evie.” He chucked her lightly on her chin as her brother Elliot oftentimes did. “I must take my leave before your mother discovers my presence. I do not have the heart to endure her a
ffront.”
“It seems you have become a veritable rake of the first order,” she said with a grin. “Mamma is very much afraid of your corrupting influence on me, and I have been forbidden to dance with you at Lady Beechman’s ball unless you were to openly state your intentions.” Though she injected levity in her tone, Evie’s heart ached because her mother continually frowned upon their unusual friendship.
The glint of humor in his eyes soothed her. “I’m a bloody saint within your presence. I value you too much to corrupt you.”
Evie smiled. Richard was her confidant and the one she always turned to whenever she had troubles. He was blunt, had no notion to coddle her sensibilities, and she could always depend on his refreshing, albeit sarcastic honesty. He had never been proper or staid, which she enjoyed, for he was the very opposite of her own nature. She was the perfect and dutiful daughter, he was wild and unpredictable, and he was her greatest guilty pleasure in life. The art of baking was another pleasure she still secretly indulged in, but she had been visiting the kitchens with less frequency. For an unmarried society girl, any suggestions of individuality or uniqueness were most severely frowned upon by society and most especially by her parents. Her mother was a stickler for following the rules of the ton and was forever berating Evie for her unusual plebian interest.
She lifted her hand and smoothed a wisp of unruly hair from his forehead. Inside she cheered loudly to see some of the misery that had shadowed his eyes lessen. “Go, and I pray all will be well with your daughter.”
Dark torment flashed in his eyes. “I feel as if my damned heart is breaking in two.” He arched a brow. “I never thought my desolation would elicit a smile.”
“I assure you I am only heartened by the fact you willingly admit you are in possession of a heart.” There were times his manner had been so cold and aloof, disquiet had pierced her heart and reaffirmed how useless it was to so ardently admire a man who spared little thought for the gentler sex.
