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“I would be afraid to see the inside,” she said. “It would break my heart if everything was torn apart. Maybe not knowing is better.”
Her uncle nodded. “You're probably right.”
A long while later, while the dancing was in full swing, Elizabeth stood with Lydia toward the back of one tent, talking quietly. Lydia had been on her best behavior all day, and they talked about the wedding and the reception and the dresses—something to break the ice, but nothing much deeper than that.Now is not the time.
Caroline was there too, of course, but had only said a cool hello to Will and Elizabeth. Otherwise, she’d kept her distance, which was exactly what Elizabeth had hoped for; she wasn’t interested in trying to make phony, polite conversation with her.
She spotted Will standing at the bar with Charles, and the two men were laughing so hard they were nearly doubled over. Watching them made Elizabeth smile, and she drank in the vision of Will looking so handsome in his suit, his dimples on full display.
He glanced around, and when he caught her eye, he very deliberately let his gaze wander slowly down her body and back up again, only to be met with an arched brow from her. The band went into a slow song and he nodded toward the dance floor, and she told Lydia she'd talk to her a bit later.
They met on the floor, and he pulled her close and gave her a long kiss. He was flirtatious while they danced, pulling her close and singing in her ear, and she reveled in it, very happy to be the center of his attention.
Throughout the evening, even when they weren't together, she'd catch a glimpse of him, and most of the time—even though he was talking with someone else—he would be watching her. It reminded her of Charles's Memorial Day cookout when they were just beginning to get to know each other.
It seems like a lifetime ago.
They danced to a few more songs, and when he took her by the hand and led her to their table so they could sit for a few minutes, she was surprised to find herself in his lap.
“You’re sitting here,” he said, and kissed her lightly. “I haven't had a moment alone with you tonight.”
She hung her arms loosely around his neck. “We just danced together, didn't we?”
“On a crowded dance floor.”
“Oh, were there other people? I didn't notice.”
He grinned and kissed her again. “You look stunning, have I told you that?”
“Yes, several times. Not that I tire of hearing it.” She rested her hands against his chest. “You look pretty darn good yourself. Peach becomes you.” And it did. The soft color matched her dress, and contrasted wonderfully with his dark hair and eyes and brought out the rich color of his tan.
“You think so?” He chuckled, and his gaze dropped low. “I like the way this dress is made... Lots of skin showing here.” His hand stroked over her bare legs. “Very nice. If we were alone…”
A ball of excited anticipation bounced in her stomach. “If we were alone…what?”
Her heartbeat accelerated as his fingers continued drawing little circles on her skin, moving higher up her thigh with each sweep.
“My mouth would be here instead of my hand. And this dress…” His gaze traveled over her body, down to her legs, before meeting her eyes again. “Mm, I think I would have you leave it on. I would only have to push it up...”
She flushed when his hand slipped under the hem of her dress, moving higher and coming precariously close to “inappropriate public behavior” territory. He nuzzled her neck, his lips settling over the spot where her pulse jumped, and then gently pulled her earlobe into his mouth. She shivered, and his hand traveled just a little bit higher.
“Will,” she said, slightly breathless.
His lips continued to travel over her neck. “Mm.”
“If you don't—” she gasped when his teeth grazed the curve between her neck and shoulder. “If you don't–don’t plan on—”
His lips met hers and he kissed her slowly, making it soft and sensuous and breathtaking. When he finally pulled away she was robbed of speech, and she could feel the heat in her cheeks. Nearly every other part of her body was either throbbing or tingling with need. She was acutely aware of his arousal, seated as she was, and when she opened her eyes he was staring at her, his face only inches away.
“If I don't plan on what?” he murmured, and then buried one hand in her hair and kissed her again, just as deeply as before.
When they parted, she shook her head slightly. “Good Lord.”
He grinned and shifted in his seat. “What were you saying?” he asked roughly.
“I was saying…tryingto say…that if you don't plan on finishing, you probably shouldn't be starting. And you'redefinitelystarting.”
“I'm just...indulging. Isn't that what you said we were doing on your couch the other day? Indulging?”
