‘Perhaps...’ It was funny. He had never felt like this when he had been with Miranda. There had been lust, of course. But not friendship or understanding. He’d never known what she was thinking or feeling, and perhaps that had been what had drawn him then. With her it had been fraught. Unsettled. Unfulfilling. Even superficial. Yet with Effie, it felt like a warm eiderdown wrapping him in reassuring comfort. Different. Better. Right...
She made no move to turn back towards the door and gazed at him expectantly although Max couldn’t for the life of him think of anything else to say that did not involve admitting she had more than grown on him. She had taken root and taken over. Made his heart beat and his days something to look forward to. Because despite the bizarreness of the situation, the complicated charade and the house filled with strangers, he realised with a start he was looking forward to tomorrow entirely owing to the fact she would be in all of it.
‘I suppose I should go...’
‘I suppose you should.’
‘Unless...’ She chewed her bottom lip again and then shook her head. ‘Never mind... Ignore me. I am being silly...’ Now she was obviously awkward—not uncomfortable awkward, but hesitant.
It was ridiculous to allow the tiny shoot of hope to grow bigger, yet it was. ‘Unless what?’
‘I am galloping ahead of myself... I am useless at this sort of thing. I can never accurately gauge people’s emotions until it is too late and I have gone too far... And it was obvious you regretted the last one...’
His heart was hammering in his chest now. Every signal she was sending him was positive. Or at least he thought they were. Before the burns, he wouldn’t have been so uncertain. Wouldn’t have dithered. The old Max would have grabbed this opportunity with both hands and to hell with the consequences. He’d have taken the risk—but the new Max had so much more to lose and simply wasn’t brave enough.
Her teeth worried her plump lip again and she couldn’t meet his eyes, except briefly, too briefly, and he was sure they flicked to his mouth.
‘I am reading too much into what you just said and... I mean, youaredifferent, Max. You have always been different from everyone else. You seem to be able to tolerate me for a start. And what you are doing for me now speaks volumes, but... I should be happy with that... I am happy with that, but... What I mean is there is different and then there isdifferent...’ Her gaze was now riveted to a spot on the floor, her hands busily fidgeting among the lace. ‘Really, I should go. And let sleeping dogs lie... Shouldn’t I?’
Of its own accord, his finger reached out to tilt up her chin. In case he had completely misread things, he needed to see her eyes before he dared to dream. Needed to hear the words. ‘Unless what, Effie? Ask your question.’
‘I know I am odd and not quite what any man expects or wants from a woman... But I was wondering if you would like to try...’ She turned her face to the side and he realised she was blushing now, too. ‘Lord, this is mortifying. That I have toaskshould tell me all I need to know... Which in itself makes it apparent that of course you wouldn’t like to kiss me again...’ All the air rushed out of his lungs and the ground felt unsteady in the very best way. ‘I’m sorry, Max—I should never have...’
He pressed his lips to hers greedily and to his complete delight she melted instantly against him, winding her arms around his neck as she sighed into his mouth. It was all the encouragement he needed.
There was no possibility of this kiss being soft and unhurried. Too many emotions had been stirred up this last week and he had temporarily lost the ability to mask them. There were too many of them coursing through his body now to dawdle or hold back. Utter despair had turned to overwhelming relief. Longing to lust. Grief to joy. Elation. Surprise. Affection... No... Something else, something big and complicated and frankly terrifying—except he wasn’t terrified. Not in the slightest. He was glad for it. Giddy with it.
She was kissing him!
With all the enthusiasm and passion she displayed in everything she cared about.
Max filled his hands with her curves, revelling in the feel of her naked body beneath the thin material of her siren’s nightgown. Apparently misplaced jealousy made him possessive and desperate to stake his claim on her and brand her as his. He deepened the kiss and she matched him, her tongue tangling with his as her fingers wove themselves into his hair and anchored him firmly in place. He could feel her pebbled nipples through the unwelcome barrier of his shirt. The rapid rise and fall of her bosom as she pressed herself against him. The throaty, wanton sigh when he finally gave in and cupped her breasts was like an hallelujah. She wanted this. Wanted him and that indeed was everything.
Then all at once she placed the flat of her hands on his shoulders and pushed them apart. Her eyes wide. Kiss-swollen lips parted. Her breathing erratic and laboured as she stared at him. For a moment, he was terrified she already regretted it, until her fingers touched her lips and miraculously she smiled. A sultry, seductive and wholly feminine expression he had never seen on her before.
‘That was...rather lovely.’
‘Yes, it was.’ He found himself smiling back.
‘Enlightening...’
‘Very.’ He had certainly never experienced a kiss like it. But then again, he had never kissed a woman he loved heart and soul before, so it was no wonder. And wonderful.
She reached behind clumsily to open the door, still facing him. ‘My very first second kiss.’
The first of many if he had anything to say about it. ‘It bodes well for the third.’
‘Yes, it does... Will that be happening tomorrow?’ She clamped her mouth shut in the way she so often did when her thoughts escaped before she had time to stop them and he laughed.
‘I think I can guarantee it—Miss Never-been-kissed-twice-before.’
She smiled again, a little shyly, a little expectantly, as she slowly retreated across the landing to her bedchamber, her pretty eyes never once leaving his. ‘Goodnight, Max.’
‘Goodnight, Effie... Sleep tight.’
It was only after she had closed the door that her words permeated his lust-addled brain.
‘I can never accurately gauge people’s emotions until it is too late and I have gone too far... And it was obvious you regretted the last one...’
