Page 16 of Ella’s Desire

“Nay, ’tis a world.” She held out her hand. “Let me show you.”

He closed the cover and passed it to her. She cradled the cool, smooth leather spine in her palm and reveled in the soft creak as she opened it. Her pulse thrummed faster with nervousness. She’d read aloud many times before for Papa and her sisters. Why was she now suddenly anxious to do so?

She began to read, her voice shaking slightly, breathless. At least, until the story took her away. By the time she got to the queen accepting the knight’s widow as her lady-in-waiting, and both delivering their babies on Palm Sunday, Ella was lost in the story.

Page after page, she read, continuing on through the adventure as the two grew up together and the king became wary of Blancheflor possessing his son’s affections, and so sold her to the merchants. By the time Ella got to the part where Floire was mistakenly taken to Claris’s room in the tower rather than Blancheflor’s, she’d idly sat down on the bench and Calville had joined her.

Far too soon, the book ended and the hum of her own voice in the room went quiet. She blinked, lost for a moment in the tale she’d read, and reorienting herself in the solar, sitting next to the young earl. He sat so closely that his thigh rested against hers. His body heat pressed against her in an act more intimate than any she’d ever experienced with a man.

Her shyness returned. Her cheeks flared hot with a self-consciousness she could not help, especially with the awed way he gazed at her.

“That was…incredible.” He shook his head, almost disbelieving. “You brought it to life in a way I’ve never heard before. I could see the characters, feel their struggles.” His searching gaze swept over her face. “You are incredible, Lady Ella.”

Her heart thundered in her chest and the heat of her cheeks spread to her ears, her chest, even her stomach. Aye, he was too close, but she did not mind. Indeed, she would not mind being closer still.

He leaned toward her, so their faces were nearly touching. His eyes locked with hers, a deep, perfect green. “Will you read for me again someday?”

“Aye.” She tilted her chin upward, so their mouths were only a whisper away. “Is it not the most passionate thing imaginable?”

“Not the most passionate.” He lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingertips down her neck and in the shallow dip of her collarbone. She sucked in a soft inhale. Would he kiss her there?

His other hand came up and he cupped either side of her jaw, careful, gentle, as though he worried that she might break. Her heartbeat came faster until it was hard to catch her breath. All she could think of was his detailing of how he would kiss her; how the simple touch of his fingertip on her skin had elicited such delight.

His lips brushed hers, surprisingly soft and wonderfully warm. He pressed his mouth to hers once, twice, then he parted his mouth to kiss first her top lip then the bottom, then both at once. Ella’s head swam, her thoughts whirling in a tangle of desire and excitement.

He nudged apart her lips and dipped his tongue between them. Prickles of pleasure danced over her skin. His hands slid down her arms and over her back, holding her to him.

Her breasts crushed against the strength of his chest. She wanted to touch him as well, to let her fingers trail over his chest, which had been so firm when he’d caught her as she fell from the tree. But she stayed her hand for fear of being thought of as wanton.

His mouth descended down her chin to her neck. Her heart raced faster still. Was he going to make good on his promises the night before? He pressed kisses to the dip between her neck and shoulder. Exactly where he’d said he would.

It was far more wonderful than Ella had imagined. So much pleasure, so much anticipation for more.

A throb had begun between her legs, thundering to the same beat as her heart. His kisses trailed down, to the hollow of her collarbone. Ella moaned and dropped her head back. Her breasts pushed forward of their own volition. The action pressed her aching nipples to the fabric of her dress. Bliss rushed through her body.

Would he touch her breasts? She knew it was something men enjoyed doing with women. It had always seemed silly, until now.

Calville leaned back and gazed at her with half-lidded eyes. Though she’d never seen a man regard her thus, she knew the expression to be one of sensuality. Of lust. That she had caused. A gasp slipped from between her lips.

“Kiss me again.” She sat forward and tentatively reached out for him. “Please, Calville.”

He released her body to caress her face. “Call me Bronson.”

“Bronson,” she repeated.

He nodded and brushed his thumb over her lower lip. Her eyes swept closed in expectation.

“Soon, Ella. We can kiss like this and so, so much more.” His wonderful, hot mouth found hers again. “After we are married on the morrow.”

Her eyes flew open. “I beg your pardon?”

He leaned back with a grin. “We’ll be wed on the morrow, Ella. Does that not please you?”

She stared at him in horror. It did not please her. Not when they were only just beginning to know one another, not when there was still so much to learn.

All the pleasure he had elicited, all the anticipation he had awoken, went cold. Ella was not ready, not when there was still so much to learn of one another.

Not when she did not love him.