Page 66 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

Their lips barely touched.

It was the lightest press of skin upon skin, yet it felt like a tiny burst of lightning exploding through him. For a moment he stilled, his mouth hovering close to hers, shaken by the power of it, of the rightness.

From the moment they had met, Hetty had demanded his attention, and he had resented how easily she commanded it. But now it seemed natural, because of course… of course this woman drew him to her, they were polar opposites, he was rational and cautious, she was spontaneous and reckless. Her vivacity, her joy for life, and her enthusiasm lit up the grey tedium of what his world had become. He hadn’t realised how wretched he was, how very worn down by life, until Hetty had exploded into it and challenged him to look at it with fresh eyes.

Slowly, savouring the moment, he pressed his mouth against hers, determined not to rush this time, not to devour the taste of her like a starving man only to throw her generosity back in her face. This might well be a mistake, it might well ruin them both, but he could not walk away from it, from her, without trying for…for something. He suspected he hoped for a future that did not exist outside of fairy stories, but he dared to believe it might exist for them if they fought hard enough. He knew how to fight, and he suspected Hetty did too.

Gideon slid his hand behind her neck, cradling her face in the other, deepening the kiss as she closed her eyes and curled her fingers around the lapels of his coat. Time stood still as he played, teasing and coaxing her until her breath sped and she took a step closer, seeking more.

He pulled her against him, relishing the sensation of her slim, lithe body against his. The scent of roses, of sweetness, filled his senses, and he hardly knew if it was her skin or the garden around them. It seemed all of a piece, as if she were some magical creature woven from rose petals, certainly her skin was petal soft. He drew back, his breath fluttering over her cheek as a vague memory of having been sent here to tell her something niggled at his brain.

It probably wasn’t important. He had things of his own that he needed to say.

“I’m sorry for being so angry yesterday,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

“You were upset, and it’s a delicate subject. People find it so difficult to speak of such things, but it is not your mother’s fault that she is ill, no more than it is yours. The world is so terribly quick to judge, but I’m not one of them, Gideon.”

Gideon let out a breath, still finding it hard to believe in the words he was about to speak. Hetty gazed at him expectantly.

“She’s not my mother.”

He saw the startled expression in her eyes there and hurried to explain.

“I didn’t know until last night. Neither did Damian, though it appears he suspected. He found out the truth some weeks back, that’s why he came here, to tell me.”

She stared at him in confusion, and he laughed.

“You do not know how strange it feels to me, Hetty. Damian and I swore we would never marry, never have children, to ensure we did not taint the next generation. But suddenly, this dreadful burden I’ve carried my entire life, the fear that I might one day try to harm those I loved and end up like her… it’s gone. Because she isn’t my mother.”

“Oh, Gideon.” Her voice was soft with wonder, and she reached for him, taking his hands. “That’s wonderful news. But how—”

Gideon squeezed her fingers, touched by the happiness that shone in her eyes for him as he led her over to the fountain. They sat on the cool stone ledge as he explained everything Damian had told him. At intervals, a gentle breeze would send a fine mist from the fountain to patter their skin, and it was wonderfully cool.

“You must be so relieved. I cannot imagine how difficult it has been for you all these years.”

He laughed and then shook his head, guilt of a different kind squeezing his heart now. “It’s a relief for me. Not for Damian. Nothing has changed for him.”

Her expression sobered as she nodded her understanding. “But he did all that for you, Gideon. He tracked down his old nanny and sought the truth, knowing it would free you.”

Gideon’s heart felt suddenly raw and somewhat vulnerable as he acknowledged the truth of her words. He owed Damian a good deal for lifting the dreadful burden from his shoulders. “That’s Damian all over. One moment you want to murder him with your bare hands, and then he does something like that.”

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his. “You’re afraid he really is like his mother.”

He shrugged. “Yes. I have always known he was far more like her. He’s…unpredictable.”

Though he did not wish to, he thought it best he spelled things out, though Hetty was no fool. “I’m illegitimate, Hetty.”

“You and half the ton,” she said with a little laugh. “You can’t think I care about that, surely?”

Gideon felt a smile curve his lips. He’d suspected she would not give a damn, but all the same. It was good to hear her say it.

They sat in silence for a moment, Gideon’s attention riveted upon the slim hand holding his. He turned it and lifted it to his mouth, kissing her palm. Her breath hitched, and he slanted a glance at her. Her skin was a lush pink, except for the purple bruise, her soft mouth reddened by his kisses, and her eyes… her eyes glowed, dark and filled with anticipation.

“I want to kiss you,” he told her, a little startled by the husky quality of his own voice. “I want to kiss you so badly my skin aches for it. I want to kiss you everywhere, Hetty, starting at your toes, and not missing an inch of you.”

The pink deepened, a hectic surge of colour rushing over her that told its own story.

“I’ve shocked you.”