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“You’re successful at music. It’s what you know.”
She pushed against his chest. “That’s just mean.”
“I’m not being mean,” he replied. “Any more than you were, poking at my father.”
“Oh.” She stopped moving and gazed up at him. That was also an excellent point. She’d wanted to get to know him. Really know him. She wasn’t entirely certain why. He was just…fascinating. “Why ask then?”
“Because.” He slid his hand up her back, making her skin pimple all along her arms. “You made a request and…” His lips just skimmed her forehead causing her to grab the lapels of his jacket as though she needed support. “You’ve made a request and if I am to fulfill it, I need to know what you really want and what you actually want out of it.”
She tilted her chin up to look into his gaze, her knees getting weak. “Just a kiss. That’s all.”
He shook his head. “What you want is so much more complicated than that. Everything about you is deliciously complicated, even I know that. Tell me the truth.”
She sighed. He’d already learned more about her than anyone else ever. What was the harm in telling him all of it? “I want to know what it feels like to be wanted. To not be plain.” She slid her hands around his neck. “What it means to be swept out into the garden for a midnight meeting under the stars.” She let out a small sigh despite herself. “Thank you for that.”
* * *
Ash knew he was going to kiss her. Desire was pooling in his loins even as her arms glided up his coat to thread about his neck.
But more than he wanted to act on his own desire, he wanted her to understand she wasn’t plain at all. Never had a word fit a person less. “What do you want to be, if not plain?” he asked as his lips kissed a slow trail over her temple and down her cheek.
“Powerful,” she said, her voice trembling. “Wanted.”
“You don’t get that from your music?” he asked, his lips teasing down to her jaw.
Her heart hammered against his chest. He could feel its rapid thud, his own speeding up to meet it.
“I suppose. And I love music. But…” Her voice trailed off.
He wanted to ask her but what? But his mouth had reached the corner of hers and he caught the subtle hints of her breath, sweet and savory, and laced with champagne and…need.
He pressed his lips so lightly to hers; it almost wasn’t a kiss at all, except she shook, holding about his neck tighter.
He lifted just above her and then kissed her again, firmer, harder, bringing her lips together before he repeated it all again. One of his hands cupped her cheek, her velvety skin caressing the rough calluses on his palm.
Part of him wanted to give her more. Wished to part her lips and drink from her more fully. But this wasn’t about his desires but hers and so, instead, he tipped back. “There’s your kiss, sweetheart.”
She looked up, her gaze unfocused, her lips puffy and dew covered. He groaned, using all his strength to resist dipping down and tasting her again.
“That was…” She swallowed. “That was so much more than—”
He dropped his head to hers. “I’m not your future, Cordelia. I tried to be clear on that point. But I hope I helped you choose yours. In some small way.”
His hand was still on her cheek and she grasped his wrist. “Funny.”
“What?” he asked despite himself. He’d meant his last words to end this interaction. He should return back to the village, the cottage he stayed in, and then leave Seabridge Gate in the morning. Because every second he stayed, the situation grew more dangerous. But rather than do any of that, he asked, “What’s funny?”
She shook her head. “You don’t want anyone. I don’t want anyone. And yet here we are.”
He leaned back. “I still don’t want anyone, Cordelia. I’ve made that clear, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” she said, even as she pulled away. This time he let her. “You’ve made that clear.”
He knew he’d just hurt her, and he was undoing some of what the kiss had given her. But he needed her to understand. This was not a forever bargain. It wasn’t even a tomorrow deal. This was just for tonight. “Don’t run away now. I’ve something to say.”
She perched her hands on her hips as she straightened. “I don’t run away from problems, my lord.”
“Ash,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “My name is Ash.”
