And then—her body answered.
The sensation struck suddenly and completely, tearing through her in hot, overwhelming waves. All she could do was cling to him as wave after wave of pleasure tightened her body with startling force.
CROSSING THE LINE… AGAIN
Gideon rested his forehead against the tree behind her shoulder, trying to catch his breath while Beatrice slowly gathered herself in his arms.
For the second time in as many days, Gideon had crossed a line he had spent the better part of a week ignoring. And no, he’d not stumbled across it, he’d gone willingly.
But it was not why he’d asked her to meet him here.
But then, a second voice answered almost immediately.
Was it not?
He shook his head. Dazed.
The truly dangerous thing—the thing he had not anticipated, despite knowing her nearly all his life—was that Beatrice had not merely responded to him. She had taken charge.
Of the moment.
Of him.
Beatrice, with her sharp mind and fearless curiosity and complete disregard for the sensible limits that governed most civilized behavior, had simply… touched him.
Gideon finally found the strength to lift his head. Beatrice still leaned against the tree, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly swollen. Pinker than usual. Glistening.
One side of her bodice remained lowered, exposing the sweetest stretch of skin—skin he had very recently become far too acquainted with.
Gideon closed his eyes briefly.
This had long since surpassed harmless affection.
And if he delayed speaking with Dash much longer, it would cease being dishonorable only in theory.
Gideon drew in a slow breath through his nose before opening his eyes again.
Beatrice still had one hand between them, the other resting on his chest, as though neither of them had quite decided how to separate after what had just occurred.
It felt far too… natural. As though they belonged like this.
His gaze lowered to her bodice despite himself.
At once, color rushed back into her cheeks.
“Oh.”
For the first time since he had hauled her against the tree and proceeded to lose every shred of restraint he possessed, a little embarrassment flickered across her features.
With far more dignity than a man who had just ruined himself inside his own trousers had any right to be, Gideon drew the fabric back into place along her shoulder.
Her breath caught when his knuckles brushed warm skin.
Neither of them spoke.
He fastened the loosened ribbon at the edge of her sleeve, straightened the wrinkled line of her bodice, then reached upward, removing a small leaf tangled near the elaborate arrangement of her hair.
Another had caught near her temple.
