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Mustering his willpower, Darcy turned his attention to preparing for bed. Pouring some water into the basin, he used it to wash some of the road grime from his hands and face, wishing he could have a full bath. Then he slipped out of his clothing and into the long, loose nightshirt from his pack. Elizabeth might be deeply asleep, but he kept his back turned to her.
Darcy p
ulled the covers around Elizabeth’s sleeping form, tucking her in securely. She gave a little sigh and a half smile but did not awaken. He climbed under the covers on the other side of the bed, an action that felt at once all wrong and far too right. Allowing himself one indulgence, Darcy leaned over and tenderly kissed Elizabeth’s brow before retreating to his side of the bed and dropping off to sleep.
***
Darcy awoke disoriented, unsure where he was or what was happening. Someone loomed over him, launching his heart into a frantic rhythm. “It is just me, my love,” a warm voice murmured.
Oh yes. Elizabeth. The coaching inn. Good Lord, he was sharing a bed with Elizabeth!
The moon had risen and cast a silvery glow through the window, turning Elizabeth into a dark silhouette. She peered down at him, her curls tumbling around her face, the long ends brushing against his cheeks. Elizabeth’s shift draped loosely around her body, providing tantalizing glimpses of ivory skin. Her forearms rested on his chest and her breasts were…
Darcy hastily raised his eyes to her face. “Elizabeth?” he whispered.
“Yes.” She drew out the word like one long exhalation.
Darcy’s conscience warred with his body’s desires. “Er…you should sleep; we must rise early in the morning.”
Her lips curved into a smile he could only describe as seductive. “I slept for a long time, and I am no longer tired.”
That much was plain to Darcy.
Her eyes held his gaze—the green so much darker in the dim light. Her lips were so close. The sight and the scent of Elizabeth made his heart pound and his breathing quicken.
No, this was wrong. He locked the muscles in his arms, keeping them stiff at his sides so they would not enclose her—no matter how much he longed for the embrace.
“You need more rest.” He tried to sound firm, but he was too breathless.
“Why have you not kissed me again?” Her mouth made a little moue of disappointment. “We only kissed the once, but it was very pleasant.” She lowered her head until their mouths were only inches apart, and he could smell the wine on her breath.
“How much wine did you drink, love?”
Her brows drew together. Good Lord, even her frowns were beautiful! “I am not foxed.”
“Of course not, but—”
“Although, I must admit the wine did go to my head earlier. I feel quite…warm and…delightfully…distracted.” Darcy found her attention far too focused for his peace of mind. She settled onto his chest, giggling as if the situation were a minor inconvenience rather than the potential disaster Darcy knew it to be.
Gently, he tried to slide her back to her side of the bed, but she resisted. “Elizabeth—”
She pouted. “Just one kiss?”
What could be the harm in a single kiss? Especially if she then surrendered to some much-needed rest. Her lips were so very pink and…close…and difficult to ignore. “Very well,” he breathed.
Before he had a chance to act, Elizabeth’s lips descended onto his, pressing and demanding a response. Oh, it was heavenly. How often had he dreamt of kissing Elizabeth? Yet the reality far exceeded any dream. Her lips tasted of wine, appropriately enough since he felt intoxicated by every touch. Her lips avidly sought his as if she, too, could not get enough of his taste, and her eagerness further stoked his desire.
Darcy opened his mouth, and their tongues swept together in a loving duel. The need for air meant their lips must reluctantly part, which prompted a throaty moan from Elizabeth. “I have nothing with which to compare, but surely you bestow the best kisses of any man in England—or France.” She moaned again, and the sound traveled down Darcy’s spine to radiate excitement throughout his body.
Darcy flushed with pleasure. “I can only say I am happy you have been kissing nobody else.”
She smiled and lowered her head for another kiss. As their lips parted, both Elizabeth and Darcy were panting for breath. He had expected her energy to flag by now, but she still lingered, seemingly prepared for another kiss.
He patted her arm reluctantly. “Elizabeth, love, you must sleep.”
“I am not tired.”
“Still…” Darcy had been avoiding touching her more than necessary, but he feared his will would soon break. Placing both of his hands on her waist, he attempted to roll her back to the other side of the bed. But Elizabeth used his momentary distraction to slide one of her legs over both of his. Now her entire body rested atop of his, straddling his pelvis. Darcy’s body reacted in an unmistakable way.
