Page 65 of His Sinful Touch

“Anything is possible.”

Sabrina smiled, and he couldn’t fathom how a look could stab right through his chest and at the same time fill him with happiness. She rested her palm against his cheek, murmuring his name.

Alex had sworn he was not going to enter these dangerous waters again, was not going to kiss her or caress her or woo her. But at the sight of her, his good intentions melted away, and he bent to kiss her. She made a soft noise of pleasure, and he wrapped his arms around her even more tightly as he kissed her again and again.

The things going through his head were too inchoate to be termed thoughts, but he was intensely aware of how alone they were in the this small, private place, locked away from all eyes, how easy it would be to pull her down with him, to unfasten her garments. His mind was filled with memories of that night in her house in London, of the satin softness of her skin beneath his hand, the plump curve of her breast, the taut hardening of the nipple.

He sat down on the long seat, pulling her into his lap without loosening his embrace around her. She settled into him with a soft sigh that heated his blood. He kissed her cheek, her ear, her throat, his hand roaming slowly over her, exploring the soft hills and plains, until he could not bear to have the impediment of her dress between his touch and her skin.

Deftly unbuttoning the large, decorative buttons of her bodice, Alex slipped his hand inside, caressing her through the thin cloth of her chemise. But soon that was not enough, either, and he tugged loose the bow that fastened her chemise. Then his fingers were on her bare skin, gliding over the supremely soft flesh and curving down to arouse her nipple to further hardness.

He kissed his way down her chest, his lips replacing his teasing fingers, and when he took her nipple into his mouth, she arched up against it with a little moan, sending his own desire skyrocketing. He slid his hand down her leg and up under her skirts. Alex ached to feel that bare skin as well, but just the heat of her against the thin cotton, the hint of what lay beneath the cloth, tantalizingly veiled from his touch, was enough to make him tremble. When his fingers edged between her legs, gliding up to find her, hot and damp, it was all he could do not to strip away the material.

Instead, he stroked her through the cloth, delighting in the way she moved against him, her own fingers sinking into his hair. He wanted more, much more, and he pulled his hand away to fumble at the buttons of her skirt, inconveniently behind her back.

A knock at the door cut through their haze of passion. Alex raised his head, letting out an oath. “The bloody conductor.”

Sabrina sat up hastily, pulling her clothes back together, and as another knock sounded sharply, Alex jumped to his feet. Pulling at his clothes and swiping at his mussed hair, he went to the door. God only knew what he must look like. What the ticket taker would think.

He opened the door narrowly, hiding the rest of the room from the man’s gaze. “Yes?”

“Ticket, sir?” The man’s gaze went curiously over Alex’s shoulder to the room beyond.

“Yes, of course. Um...” Alex began to search through his pockets, trying to remember where he’d stuck the blasted ticket, and at the same time did his best to keep the door nearly shut. His blood was still rushing through him like fire. How had the situation devolved into a farce so quickly?

“Here.” Sabrina thrust a ticket into his hand.

He held it out to the conductor, who said, “This is just for one, sir.” The man’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

With relief, Alex found his ticket and handed it to the man. “Here.”

“This is for a different compartment, sir.”

“Yes, well, I’m not there.” Alex glared at the conductor.

“I see, sir.” A sly grin touched the other man’s mouth.

“Good day,” Alex said and closed the door, turning the latch with a firm click.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back to Sabrina. She was holding her hands against her burning cheeks, her eyes bright. He tried to think of what to say. “I, um...beg your pardon.”

She began to giggle. Alex’s own mouth twitched, and he let out a long sigh, leaning back against the door. “I am sorry, Sabrina. At least he didn’t see you.”

“I suspect he will be looking for me when we leave.” She laughed again and plopped down on the seat. “I’m sorry, too. You were the one who had to face him.”

“For you, my dear, I’d dare anything.” He grinned, crossing his arms and regarding her. What was he going to do if Sabrina was married? How could he bear to lose her?

“But we can’t continue to do this.” Sabrina sobered. “It’s wrong, not knowing whether... Alex, we simply must find out what happened.”

“I know.” It was too dangerous to sit down beside her, Alex decided, so he remained by the door. “You could have told me that you feared you were married, you know. You can tell me anything.”

“I didn’t want it to be true. I thought if I could just find out it wasn’t true, I wouldn’t have to even admit it.”

“I’m not at all sure it is true. If it were, why didn’t he bring proof of it with him today?” He paused. “I don’t dismiss your dream. We Morelands tend toward dreams of portent. Still, it’s not a memory, really. What made you fear it was true?”

“I was standing beside a man, and I felt ill and dizzy. Another man across from us kept talking on and on. I can’t remember his face, but he wore a clerical collar. I think—I think I nodded as he talked.” She stood up and began to pace around the small area. “Maybe when I saw Peter last night, it triggered that memory.”

“Was it Peter you were standing with?”