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Louisa could feel herself melting, much as she had before the Melton assembly when William had kissed her the first time—
The scoundrel was making it happen again!
“Stop it,” she exclaimed, pulling her hand free. “You kissed me before only to make me look betrothed in front everyone present. You flatter me with your words only to distract me from my intent. You must think me a weak female to use such tactics on me.”
“Not at all, Louisa, I promise you.” He turned his head away and stared outward toward the house.
“My conditions are simple ones, William. Talk to me. Be forthcoming with me. Be honest. That is all I ask.”
He turned back toward her, his dark eyes burning in a way she’d not seen before. “You think your conditions are simple, but they are not.” He reached for her wrist and pulled her toward him until she was pressed closely to him, their faces mere inches apart.
Louisa’s heart pounded with excitement and fear and just a touch of triumph; she’d poked the caged tiger with a stick and had finally gotten a reaction.
“There is not much to tell,” he said, the look in his eyes scorching her. “Anything of any import you know already. My mother died far too soon. My father died far too late to benefit anyone. The only thing of any worth he ever did was wager against your grandfather.” He cupped her chin with his hand and moved so his lips were but a breath away. “And when I kiss you,” he whispered, “it is because I cannot help myself.”
His lips met hers then, firm and persuasive, and the entire world melted around Louisa, her senses once again colliding. Gradually, oh, so gradually, his kisses gentled and began softly exploring, and she floated into a place without time, eyes closed, receiving, taking, giving. Wanting more. Not knowing what she wanted.
Eventually, much too soon, William drew back . . . and time gradually returned. She didn’t want to open her eyes. “That is all I can tell you for now,” he whispered, running his forefinger over her eyebrow. “But I give you my solemn promise that I will do better. Will that suffice?”
“Yes,” Louisa breathed. Her eyes fluttered open.
His dark eyes, intensely serious now, locked with hers and held her gaze—with passion, yes, she recognized that now, but also with pain. “I must go, although it gives me no joy. I will console myself with the thought that I will see you again tomorrow evening,” he said. He pressed a lingering kiss at the corner of her mouth. “Adieu, Louisa.”
