Page 73

The more he pondered the possibility, the more the idea grew on him. The trick would be to convince Faith that a match between them also benefited her. And he had bloody little time to do it in.

“Are you going to stand there staring at me in that serious, brooding fashion?” Faith’s attention dipped to the basket as she removed her bonnet and laid it beside her. “I’m still hungry. You interrupted my breakfast.”

“Forgive me.” Constantine levered to the ground beside her and, after extending his legs and crossing his ankles, set the basket between them.

Faith promptly lifted the towel and laid it upon her gown before plucking a cinnamon bun from the basket.

Grinning, she took a large bite, then closed her eyes and groaned.

It took every ounce of his will, honor, and a severe admonition that he was a gentleman to not let his thoughts trundle down a dangerous and ungentlemanly path.

A sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar balanced on her lower lip.

Before he realized what he was about, Constantine bent and licked the speck away.

Her eyes flew open, and her lips parted.

Their eyes locked, a question in his and an answer in hers.

Slowly, he inched his mouth nearer and nearer to give Faith time to turn away or object.

She arched upward, closing the remaining inch, then looped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him.

She tasted of cinnamon and sugar; it was heady, intoxicating, and addicting.

Constantine wasn’t aware of moving the basket aside, taking the towel and cinnamon bun from her lap, or laying Faith beside him. Every sense, every thought, was trained on the woman in his arms, kissing him with exuberance and hunger that was as welcome as it was unexpected.

One hand on her slender waist and the other cradling her against his chest, he rained kisses over her forehead, cheeks, eyes, chin, and then her lush, swollen mouth again. Passion and desire grew into a raging conflagration.

He must stop before he lost control.

With grudging reluctance, Constantine lifted his mouth from hers.

He would never dishonor Faith by taking her before they exchanged vows.

Faith’s eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes. Passion and awe shone there.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Lord Constantine?”

Her voice emerged thick and sultry, and for an instant—only a very minute, insane instant—he considered tossing honor to the wind.

Faith wasn’t the type of woman to relinquish her virtue without a ring on her finger.

“Mayhap.” Chuckling, he waggled his eyebrows. “Is it working?”

“No.” She elevated her eyebrows while giving him an arch look. “I have more sense than that.”

More was the pity.

She sat up and, after adjusting her skirts into a semblance of respectability once more, rummaged through the basket before lifting an apple out. “Now, pray tell, why did you insist on joining me when you knew I wanted to be alone?”

Never one to mince words, Faith proceeded to take a bite from the apple.

“I don’t want you to leave, Faith.”

He took her free hand and balanced on one knee. Better seize the opportunity while he could.

“What… Constantine, what are you doing?”