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“Penelope wanted to help with the pie making,” said Esme. “As you know, fractions are her jam. But she probably stayed up past her bedtime after traveling and all the day’s excitement. She’ll sleep well like the other children.”
The battle inside Leo ceased for a split second. He bent over his daughter’s reposed form and pressed his lips to Penelope’s forehead. It was the same spot Esme had pressed her lips. Leo caught Esme’s sweetness in his nose, then on his lower lip. He tugged that corner of his lip inside his mouth, and something clicked inside him.
“How was dinner?” she asked. “How are you? You’re probably exhausted too. You’ve been going all day.”
Leo reached to the panel on the wall and turned out the light. Esme’s form was illuminated in the moonlight, clear as day, like a living fairy from another world. He stalked towards her, pushing her deeper into the room.
Esme backed up at his advance, but he knew she wasn’t frightened. Though she should be as Leo stalked her like prey. They wound up out on the balcony where he closed that door with another quiet snick. The sounds of victory beat out in his heart. The canon fire of his brain ceased, and all was quiet except for Esme’s shallow breaths.
“Leo?”
Just one taste. Just once. That wouldn’t hurt.
He took another step. Esme stopped retreating. She held her ground.
Tilting her head back, she gazed up into his eyes. His intentions had to be clear on his face. He couldn’t fight it anymore. When the realization of the inevitable dawned on her, Esme gasped. Leo took advantage of her parted lips.
It was such a simple gesture, a kiss. Just a press of the lips. He’d always found the alignment of the two heads tricky. Head on would cause noses to bump. So one person would have to tilt to the left and the other to the right. The coordination was the key, but he’d never figured out how to communicate which direction he would descend to let his partner know so that she might go the opposite direction.
Without words, he and Esme were in perfect synch. She went left, and he went right. Their lips met in the middle in perfect alignment.
Off in the distance fireworks went off igniting the night’s sky. Realistically, Leo knew that the pyrotechnics were in preparation for tomorrow’s Union Day celebration. But, for the first time in his life, he let his imagination run.
His kiss with Esme had set the world on fire. It certainly set him on fire. Every good sense in his brain burned to cinders at the touch of her lips to his. The sweet taste of her washed all reason from him. He felt full and starving at the same time.
One taste would not do. Somewhere inside his short circuiting brain, he’d known that would be the case. He pressed into her and deepened the kiss.
It might be their second kiss, but it was the one and only time that he would taste her. He had to make it last. And so he took one more before breaking away from her.
It was the fight of a lifetime tearing his lips from hers. His lips won, but his arms were still on the battlefield, wrapped tightly around Esme’s torso, holding her close. He rested his forehead against hers continuing to breathe in her sweet scent.
He’d only kissed two other women in his lifetime, and it had been nothing like what had just happened between him and Esme.
“That was the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life,” he said.
“You did it spectacularly well,” she said. “But, as a teacher, I know that practice makes perfect.”
Her hand reached up and cupped his chin. Her lips were about to land the deathblow to his shattered sense of duty if he didn’t do something. He didn’t want to do anything but let her claim her victory. Somehow, Leo found the will power to turn his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t. I have to get married.”
“Before you kiss me again?” She grinned up at him with pure joy in her eyes.
His heart stopped at the look. He knew then that she would say yes if he asked. Leo wanted nothing more in this world than to ask that question of her. Instead, he had to crush her dreams.
“To a future duchess,” he said.
The first crack was tiny. It was a single wrinkle in her brow of confusion. Despite her wild imagination, Esme was a very smart woman. Within a few seconds, reality dawned on her.
“I don’t think there’s a degree in becoming a duchess, is there?” she asked.
He wanted to laugh. She was still making jokes in the face of despair. But this predicament they were in now in was far too tragic for humor.
She withdrew her hand from his cheek leaving Leo feeling cold and alone. “No, I suppose you need someone born a duchess. And now I’m coming to understand the selfish part of your statement.”
She took a single step away from him, and Leo felt bereft like he was deserted on an island. “Esme, I’m so sorry.”
She gave him her back and leaned against the railing. Her shoulders caved, and her head bowed as though she were going to be sick. “You’re going to marry someone else?”
