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“Simon...,” he said, staring at her intently. “I daresay we can be informal with each other, Miranda.”
How tenderly he said her name as if he savored the shape and sound of it on his lips.
“I would like that, Simon,” she said softly, appalled at her bursting into tears.
In a few strides, he was before her, lightly touching her shoulder.
“That was a brave, kind thing you did, Miranda,” he said with a slow smile that touched somewhere deep inside her. "Thank you. Sarah is just as thankful and hoped you will see baby Victoria before you leave.”
Miranda nodded, unable to speak past the knot of emotions tightening her throat. Finally, she said, “I never knew having a child was painful. I am mortified to have been so ignorant, and I daresay if women knew, surely, they would not anticipate marriage and children with such blind expectations. Why has Mamma never told me?”
The harshness of his expression softened. "In my experience, most women do not regret that pain afterward and anticipate having more children."
He shifted scandalously closer to her, and unable to explain the needs rioting through her, she pressed into his arms. Simon did not hesitate or display shock at her lack of propriety, his hands came around her waist like bands of steel, pulling her into the hard, masculine heat of his body. She was surrounded by his clean male scent, and it felt so right to be held in his arms.
They stood like that for several moments, until the erratic beat of her heart quieted to a semblance of normalcy. Blushing at her lapse, she pulled away from him, absently massaging the ache in her fingers and wrist.
He leaned forward and encircled h
er wrist and brought it up for inspection. “Sarah’s grip must have been painful. You are bruised. I’ll rub some ointment for you. It will ease the ache and reduce the swelling.” Then he brushed the lightest kiss across her inner wrist. The action seemed to surprise him more than it did her and, with a soft curse which caused her ears to burn, he stepped back.
The pit of her stomach felt strange, fluttery, and warmth slid through her veins. "I…I…thank you for allowing me to be a part of the experience," she said huskily, painfully aware she did not pull her fingers from his hand.
His gaze flickered briefly to her mouth, and her heart clamored. He wants to kiss me, Miranda realized with a sense of shock. The air tightened with an unexpected tension, and her belly fluttered as if a thousand birds had taken flight.
“Simon…I…I….”
“Yes?”
Her senses felt assaulted by his scent and the burning need glowing from his blue gaze. The fierce intensity with which his eyes devoured her frame had both natural reticence and desire coursing through her veins. She was at a loss to explain anything, for she did not understand the twisting ache sliding through her body. The desire to touch him, to kiss his lips was as overwhelming as it was inexplicable.
He cupped her cheeks with both hands, tilting her head up, using one of his thumbs to swipe across her lower lip in a soft, sensual caress. "Thank you for being brave and so kind to a stranger. Many would not have thought it or retained such admirable composure.”
Her breath hitched at his fervent whisper and the shadows of hunger in his eyes, and she swallowed at the startling throb in her lower belly. He dipped his head slowly, giving her enough time to retreat. Miranda stood frozen, anticipation trembling through her heart with wicked fierceness. At this moment she was unable to care about duty to her mother’s expectations. She had never been kissed before, never allowed an ardent suitor to steal any moments, only because none had ever tempted her heart to misbehave.
He pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth, and her knees weakened. She grasped his shoulder, steadying herself. His mouth took hers in a ravishing kiss yet infused with such gentleness her throat ached. It was a kiss that offered comfort, for she still shivered in reaction to what she had witnessed. It was a kiss which communicated want and stunning hunger, a kiss that gave and took in equal measures.
With a soft groan, she parted her lips at his urging. He slanted his lips over hers, drawing a moan of pure need from the depths of her being. The rasping glide of his tongue against hers nearly drove Miranda to her knees. She stood on her toes, sinking further into his wild kiss, losing herself and blindly twining her fingers through the hair curling at the nape of his neck. His mouth settled more possessively over hers, his tongue urging her lips to part wider to his incredible sensual assault.
His hands stroked her jaw, over to her collarbone, down to the underside of her breast, and stayed there. Flames of desire consumed her, and she sobbed wildly into his intimate embrace. Her breasts felt peculiar, they were suddenly heavy and full, her nipples tautening into almost painful sensitivity. How clever he was with his mouth. How wickedly delightful. How lovely and everything she had ever thought a kiss could be. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and suckled it.
With a muffled groan of regret, he released her mouth. He pulled from her, littering small kisses across her cheek, then to her forehead where he lingered. He pressed kisses along her cheek, and neck, down to her neckline where he inhaled deeply. He shuddered in her arms before releasing her and stepping back. “Lady Miranda, forgive me—”
“Do not apologize,” she whispered fiercely, peering up at him. “That was my very first kiss, and I thank you for making it so wonderful.”
“Your first kiss?” he asked with gruff and pleased incredulity.
“Yes,” she said with a small smile which trembled.
“I thank you for the honor of it.” They stared at each other for several moments, a perilous tension heavy on the air.
Then he bowed, turned around and left. Miranda collapsed on the sofa and pressed her face into her palms.
Oh, what have I done?
Chapter 6
Miranda had dreamt of Simon kissing her and doing far more to her than she had ever imagined being possible. It had appalled her that her subconscious could have betrayed her in such a manner, for her dreams had been wickedly delightful. She had been roused from slumber with her heart pounding, and an unfulfilled ache she did not understand.
