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‘Do you believe that?’ Robert pounced, capturing her unresisting waist. Gently he removed the rose-filled basket from her fingers, set it on the gravel path. ‘Do you truly believe it? I never thought you lacked imagination or innovation, Henri.’
Slowly she nodded.
‘Liar.’ He bent his head so his mouth was a breath from hers. He watched the way her tongue flicked over her lips, wetting them. The blood surged through him, and he knew he had to possess her mouth again.
‘I am attempting to be sensible,’ she said, her breath mingled with his.
‘And you think this will not happen every time we are alone, and that we won’t find reasons to be alone?’ He pulled her more firmly into his arms. Her body brushed against his as he claimed her mouth. A long drawn-out sigh emerged from her throat as her arms reached up to pull him closer.
He penetrated the sweet interior of her mouth. Her tongue touched his and retreated, explicitly inviting him to follow, to sink deep into her depths. For a long moment, they stood submerged in each other. His arms crushed the soft curves of her body against him, moulding to him. And he knew he wanted more than was prudent.
‘Henri,’ he said against her mouth, drawing her breath into his lungs. ‘We need to move. Too exposed. Discretion in all things.’
She gave an indistinct murmur and looked up at him with passion-dilated eyes. Not letting go of her waist, he led her into the shadow of the summer-house where they would not be easily spied and kissed the nape of her neck, tasting her sun-ripened skin.
‘Too exposed for what?’ she whispered, not moving away. Her eyes were large and luminous. Innocent.
‘This.’ He trailed his mouth along her neck until he reached the hollow of her throat. Her skin tasted of strawberries and sunlight and something that was pure Henri. Addictive and he knew his control was slipping. He wanted her. Far too much. He wanted to take his time and explore all the mysteries. He breathed deep and regained some vestige of self-control.
‘When you wish to stop, we stop. But this is going to keep happening. The question is—what are we going to do about it?’ he asked, watching her like a hawk.
Henri stood completely still as Robert’s words thrummed through her. He desired her. He wanted more. She wanted more. She wanted to feel his touch on her skin. She wanted to touch him. And the desire hadn’t diminished in the time they had been apart; it had grown until it threatened to consume her entire being. What she was experiencing wasn’t some weak gentle thing, but something powerful and terrifyingly wonderful. This was what it was like to be in a strong and healthy man’s arms. And she wanted more.
Logically she should pick up her skirts and run like the very devil was after her, but her feet seemed rooted the ground. And he made no attempt to kiss her further, but neither did he move away. He simply stood there, looking at her with his gold-flecked eyes, as if she was the most desirable cake in the world and he a starving man. The heat from him rose all around her, enveloping her senses. Her skin tingled with anticipation.
‘We should walk away. Leave this place now and forget that it even happened.’ Henri attempted to make her voice sound decisive. But her entire being screamed that her lips were lying. She was incapable of moving away from the warmth of his body. Tingles of liquid warmth pulsated through her body and she knew her legs could not carry her. ‘Never meet alone again.’
‘Leave? I have no intention of leaving Corbridge. What happens if we encounter each other in the street, at the haberdasher’s or even at a ball? Do we walk away then? Or do we find some deserted summer-house?’
‘We must be distant friends.’ Henri hated the way her voice trembled on distant. She’d miss him. She had missed him in the past two days more than she had thought possible. What she was doing was the correct and proper thing. Surely Robert had to see the futility of them meeting and becoming entwined with each other. Sooner or later someone would find out and she’d be forced to make a choice. But she wondered if there was anywhere far enough away from him that would make her forget his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the touch of his skin. But, given time, she knew she could. A traitorous voice in the back of her mind screamed that she would not.
‘The truth, Henri.’ His hands skimmed her arms, sending fresh sparks throughout her. ‘Lie to yourself if you must, but forget lying to me. Can you turn your back and go? Can you forget? Because I know, God as my witness, I will remember and I will long to taste your lips again.’ He rubbed his thumb against her aching mouth, causing her insides to tremble. ‘The truth, Henrietta—are you going to walk out of my arms and not look back?’
