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Georgiana opened her mouth to respond but found herself leaning into his touch instead. Lord, it felt good. She closed her eyes and let herself be swept away by the feel of his thumb brushing her cheek as his heat curled around her body like an embrace, lifting away the weight of the last few weeks—no, the last few years. Was this how it felt to have someone else shoulder your burdens for a little while? If so, it was heaven. Absolute heaven.
After a moment Georgiana opened her eyes on a gasp and found herself tucked up against his solid chest, one arm wrapped around her back, while his other hand gently massaged her nape. Captain Harris stared down at her, as silent as ever. But she only felt comforted. Protected. She lifted slowly onto her toes, and he immediately responded. This kiss was slower, more tentative. A searching kiss with a sweetness that somehow rattled her far more than yesterday’s fevered embrace. For she had laid bare a part of her that she forgot to hide. A part of her that he had uncovered before she had even realized it.
He dragged his lips away and grazed the shell of her ear. “I can’t begin this with you again only to stop,” he said roughly, as if it pained him to admit this. Then he pulled back and held her face in his hands. His touch was still achingly gentle, but even the low light could not hide the stark longing in his gaze. “Do you understand?”
She pressed her palm over the back of his hand and nodded, swallowing hard. “I won’t stop you this time.”
I can’t.
Captain Harris stared at her for another endless moment as heat filled his eyes. “Good,” he growled before he bent her back and took her mouth in a ravenous, all-consuming kiss while they were bathed in moonlight and the sound of the crashing sea waves below filled her ears.
Georgiana gripped the lapels of his jacket tightly in her hands, as if the force of the kiss itself could send her flying. At some point, Captain Harris maneuvered her so her back was pressed against the balcony. One hand still firmly gripped her nape, while the other slowly skated down her chest, lingering on the underside of one breast, pushing the generous flesh up into his palm.
Georgiana had always been a touch embarrassed by her bosom, both by the usually unwanted attention it attracted and by the looks of defeat that crossed the faces of modistes inexperienced with attending to ladies of her generous shape. But the latter hadn’t happened in years, not since she had met Madam Laurent, a visionary Parisian dressmaker. Given the purr currently working its way out of the captain’s throat as he cupped her breast, it seemed safe to assume that he could also appreciate her curves.
As if to punctuate this thought, he tore his lips from hers at that moment. “You feel incredible,” he breathed.
Georgiana was prepared to deflect the compliment by making a quip in response, but all that came out was a low moan as the captain began lightly twisting her nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the gauzy fabric of her wrapper.
She dragged a finger down the side of his strong throat and looked deeply into his eyes. “Then take me to bed, Henry.”
He stilled under her touch. For the longest moment he merely stared down at her in charged silence. The moon had disappeared behind a cloud, shrouding his face in shadow. But just when Georgiana had begun to worry that she had overstepped the mark, he tugged her back inside the suite toward his room. Georgiana barely had a chance to catch her breath before he shut the door soundly behind them and pushed her down onto his bed. Her breath caught as he dragged his gaze hungrily over her body. She had never seen him look so…so…unmooredbefore. The stoic Captain Harris was reduced to pure need by a few words. The man was verging on feral. He leaned over her, tangling his hand in her hair to remove the pins until coils came loose in waves that cascaded down her back and shoulders.
“Your hair,” he murmured with such reverence that Georgiana had to avert her gaze. She was feeling too much again.
Georgiana unwound from his touch. “Take your clothes off,” she said, forcing a chill into her voice in a desperate bid to retain some control.
Henry paused and let out a short, puzzled laugh but stepped back to do her bidding. He slipped off his dress shoes and placed his cane by the nightstand, just as he had done last night, then removed his cuff links, necktie, and jacket, which he folded neatly across the back of a chair before standing in front of her. Georgiana hadn’t been looking directly at him, but now she glanced up.
“Why did you stop?”
He flashed her a wolfish smile and began rolling the sleeve of his dress shirt up over one lean forearm before moving on to the other. Georgiana’s breath hitched. He was doing this on purpose.Teasingher. Somehow she found the strength to tear her gaze away from the strong, sinewy flesh being revealed inch by glorious inch to raise a scandalized eyebrow at him.
“My goodness, Captain. I had no idea you had experience in the seductive arts.”
He threw his head back and laughed. A real, genuine laugh. Georgiana’s heart did a somersault in her chest. She should have gotten up and left at that moment. Instead, she grabbed his wrists and tugged him closer, but he resisted.
“I think we should talk before we…” His gaze skated to the pillows behind her. “About expectations.”
Of course they should. So why was disappointment sinking through her like a stone? “Very sensible, Captain,” she said, forcing lightness into her voice. Henry frowned down at her, looking not the least bit fooled. But before he could respond, she continued: “As you noted yesterday, there is a mutual attraction here. And this seems like the ideal place to explore it. Away from the prying eyes and ears of London society,” she added, the plan coming together as she spoke.
“And your family.”
She let out a dry laugh. “The most prying of all, yes.”
“What about Lord Pettigrew?”
Georgiana stiffened. She had nearly forgotten about Tommy. “He has no claim on me.”
Henry raised an eyebrow. “And isheaware of that?”
“I have made no promises to him,” she replied. “If he has deluded himself otherwise, that is not my problem.”
“But you intend to see him again when you return to London,” Henry pressed.
“Well…yes,” she admitted. “Does that matter?”
A part of her wanted the captain to be bothered by her potential involvement with Tommy Pettigrew. Jealous enough to give a damn, but not so much that he wouldn’t wish to proceed with this affair.
