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“Didn’t they? Even if they were not carrying an axe or torch, they didn’t warn me. Surely they must have known what was coming.”
He didn’t speak because he didn’t have the answers. He lay back again and looked at the sky, now streaked with traces of pink and orange.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“There’s no need.”
“There is. You didn’t have to help me. You could have left me in the ballroom.”
“And what sort of gentleman would I be then?”
“Perhaps you did act out of chivalry, but I am still grateful.”
Hugh should have allowed her to continue with her delusions. He tried to keep his mouth shut, but his body didn’t obey the order. “It wasn’t chivalry that made me grab you.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know, exactly.”
That wasn’t true. He knew exactly what it was.
“If you didn’t like me, then why would you help me, other than chivalry?”
“I might not have liked you, but I’m still a man.”
She frowned and then her brow cleared. “Oh,” she said simply, her tone full of wonder.
“You find it difficult to believe I might be attracted to you?”
“I suppose I’m not used to thinking of myself in that manner. I’ve been in mourning for so long.”
“And I am a brute for bringing it up.”
“No.” She sat up, making an adorable picture as leaves clung to her disheveled hair. “I should not say this, but I am too tired to think straight. I like that you are attracted to me. When I first became a widow, I thought my life was all but over.”
“Nonsense. You’re young and beautiful. You will marry again.”
“It’s not marriage I miss so much.” She turned away from him, but not before he saw the flush on her cheeks. She had been a wife and was therefore no innocent. If she blushed now, it must be because her words were too forward. Which meant he understood them completely. She missed a man in her bed. At any other time this would have been welcome news to Hugh. But here in the woods, potentially surrounded by mobs of angry peasants, there was not much he could do to satisfy his lust or hers.
“As I said, you are young. There will be other men.”
“I think it’s a sin to want...what I want.”
He sat and took her hand. “It’s not a sin to be human and have human needs and desires. You’ve been through an ordeal, and at a time like this, you need comfort.”
Her gaze met his, and he realized how his words could be taken. He should squeeze her hand or kiss her knuckles and say that at least he could provide that, but he wanted more. He looked at her face, pink in the dawn, her mussed hair, and the creamy expanse of flesh exposed below her neck, and he could hardly resist. Cupping her chin, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.
She was absolutely still as he kissed her, so very lightly, once, then twice. And then her hand was on the back of his neck, cupping it tightly and pulling him closer. Heat surged between them, and when their mouths met, the kiss seared them together. Frantic lips, hot, probing tongues, and nipping teeth made his senses reel. He’d kissed women before, but never like this. Nor had he ever been kissed like this.
Suddenly, the exhaustion, the thirst, the ache in his feet didn’t matter at all. He put his arms around her and pulled her close and there was nothing in his world but the scent of apples and pine and the heat of her soft body merging with his. Hugh could think of hundreds of ways he’d like to pleasure her in that moment. He could think of even more that would be mutually pleasurable, but he pushed them all aside and grasped at whatever wits remained. Forcing himself to exercise restraint, he pulled back from her.
The comtesse—he should probably think of her as Angelette after that kiss—stared at him with unfocused eyes so blue as to be almost violet. She gasped in a breath, her chest heaving as though she’d been running for miles.
“I apologize,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Whatever it was, it overtook us both. We’re both exhausted and tense. We were not ourselves.”
She gave him a long look as though to say she had been acting exactly as herself. Did she always kiss like that? Was she always so passionate?
