Page 10 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

The night air was soft and warm with a slight breeze that brought the faint scent of roses wafting from the nearby garden. Oil lamps suspended from the ceiling of the veranda at perfect intervals provided a gentle glow while still allowing for a shadowy, romantic atmosphere. The perfect setting to further her acquaintance with the captain.

They slowed to a stop halfway between the lamps, in enough shadow that Emma need not fear Captain Bancroft could see her face. Her cheeks were already hot from the knowledge of what she intended to do. Turning to gaze out over the manicured lawn, Emma released her grip on his arm and leaned against the railing. “It’s such a lovely night, isn’t it?”

“The loveliest one I’ve ever seen.”

The strange timbre of his voice made her jerk her head toward him. He wasn’t looking out at the darkened vista she’d been peering at. His gaze rested squarely on her.

Emma’s heart beat so hard against her breast she feared he could hear it. But she couldn’t dwell on that. This was the chance she’d hoped for. She swayed toward him, tilting her head back so she looked directly into his eyes. “Shall we make it even better, Captain?”

Seeming much darker than their normal blue, his eyes widened, then his head lowered until his lips rested against her ear. “Are you merely flirting with me, Miss Washer, or was that an honest invitation to a kiss?”

“Oh, I am an honest woman, Captain Bancroft.” She licked her lips then pursed them. “Do you doubt it?”

“Not at all.” He brushed a stray lock of her hair back off her forehead, winding it slowly around the shell of her ear, sending chills down her whole body. “However, I wouldn’t wish to persuade myself that my own desires were the same as yours if they were not.”

Trembling with anticipation, Emma swayed closer to him. “And what are your desires, Captain?” Her words, throaty and breathless, came out a bare whisper.

His lips now hovered scarcely above hers. “To kiss you, of course.”

“Then our desires are indeed in accord.” She held her breath as he plunged his lips onto hers.

Emma had never kissed a man before, hadn’t been completely certain she’d be able to entice the captain to do it. Her only experience with the intimate act had been secondhand, surreptitiously watching a couple kissing onboard the Scotia on her return trip to England. Miss Mills and Mr. Huckabee had been extremely enthusiastic and had seemed to enjoy their encounter so much Emma had secretly longed to have that experience as well.

The fervor of his kiss caught her by surprise, however. Never had she imagined it would feel like this. The pressure of his mouth against hers—lips both soft and firm at the same time—sent a fiery jolt throughout her body. Her cheeks heated until her head felt as though an inferno raged there. Suddenly, her knees seemed weak as water, threatening to collapse her to the ground. She put a hand on his chest to steady herself, eager to continue even though her head began to spin. He must have thought she meant to push him away, for he leaned backward, trying to break the kiss.

Emma would have none of that. This sensation of warmth, of comfort, of safety was too good to lose. She grasped his jacket and pulled him back to her. That action must have convinced him, for he cradled her head in his hands, turning her face until their lips fit together perfectly. She relaxed in his arms, determined to enjoy every second of the kiss: their incredible closeness, the scent of citrus he wore, the flutter of butterflies all through her stomach that made her wish to never stop.

Aroused by these heady sensations, Emma could have stood there kissing Captain Bancroft forever, except now there seemed to be a new sort of pressure on her mouth. The captain was pressing something against the seam of her closed lips. Glorying in the moment, Emma couldn’t think what he was trying to do. She felt so incredibly safe and warm and happy she could only press back against his lips, wishing to convey her joy in their closeness. She’d been attracted to the captain from the first, but she’d never imagined she’d feel this rush of happiness, especially toward a man who was almost a stranger. If only it would never end.

He pushed a little harder at her lips and she started to open her mouth, wondering if that was what he wanted her to do. But when she gave in that tiny bit, with an audible groan, he thrust his tongue into her mouth.

Shocked to her core, Emma emitted a shriek and jerked backward, pulling her body and mouth away from him. She clamped her hand over her lips, not at all certain what had just happened. When she could think again, she glared up at Captain Bancroft, who stood trying not to smile at her. “What did you think you were doing, sir?”

“I thought I was kissing a very willing young lady, Miss Washer. You assured me you were before we began.” The wretch didn’t even try to sound repentant.

“That was not kissing…not that last part at the end.” Miss Mills and Mr. Huckabee had not looked as though they were doing anything at all like that.

“Oh, I assure you, it was.” He cocked his head, looking curious. “No gentleman has ever deepened a kiss with you before?”

Emma gave thanks for the thick shadows on the veranda as her cheeks must be absolutely scarlet at the moment. “No, they haven’t, Captain Bancroft.” She hesitated, then plunged on. “That was the first time a gentleman has kissed me.”

His brows shot up and his eyes first widened then narrowed. “You’ve never been kissed? In truth?”

Hanging her head, Emma nodded. “I told you, I’ve not been out in Society but a little while. I don’t know many gentlemen. And…I wouldn’t have wanted to kiss them if I had known them.”

“But you wanted to kiss me.” His voice sounded so stern.

“Yes,” she whispered, wondering how the evening had taken such a horrible turn. Oh, she’d known proper young ladies didn’t go about kissing every man they met. She wouldn’t do that either. But she’d wanted to kiss Captain Bancroft, whose very presence made her feel safe and secure. She’d no idea it would make him angry. She started for the door. “Perhaps we should go back in the house.”

“In a moment.” Gently, he lifted her chin until their gazes met. “Why did you want to kiss me?”

His question made her want to squirm like a worm on a hook. She couldn’t tell him the truth, that she wanted to kiss him so he’d want to marry her. From what she’d heard, gentlemen didn’t like to think themselves trapped into marriage. Not that she wanted to trap Captain Bancroft. But she did want to marry him, now more than ever. “Because I like you.”

If that wasn’t the whole truth, it was at least partly true.

“I am flattered, Miss Washer.” His words were kind but sounded cool. “I like you as well. I simply find it difficult to believe, having kissed you, that I am the first man to do so.”

Forgetting to be embarrassed, Emma frowned at him. “I assure you, Captain, you are. I’d expect you to know the difference between a young lady who has never had such attentions before and one who is no better than she should be.” Her aunt had spoken of young women of a certain class in Sitapur who she’d described with that moniker. Emma hadn’t quite understood at the time, although now she believed she did. “Unless you too had never been kissed until now.”