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She was losing her sense of herself entirely. She was falling beneath the spell.
Suddenly, she heard voices in the distance. She pushed him away, breathing hard. His eyes were glittering fiercely, and he was breathing heavily as well.
“We should get back,” she said in a strangled whisper. “The coach will be leaving soon.”
He took a deep, ragged breath. “Yes, you are right,” he said, his voice thickened with desire. “I was overcome. But then, it is not hard when you are near to me, Miss Parker. I did not lie when I said I am consumed by you.” He paused. “Sitting next to you in that coach is like torture for me. All I want to do is touch you.”
Delia didn’t know how to reply. She wanted to tell him that she was as intoxicated with him as he appeared to be with her, but the words wouldn’t come. And besides, warning bells were ringing in her head now. She shouldn’t be encouraging him. She couldn’taffordto encourage him.
She exhaled slowly, walking off across the field. She felt strangely discombobulated, as if her mind and body weren’t connected at all. It was almost like she was walking within a dream.
Back in the carriage, she closed her eyes. She heard him settle into the seat beside her, but she didn’t dare look at him. The driver cracked the whip, and they were away again.
She sat there, so tense that it felt as if her muscles were aching with it. She kept her eyes firmly closed, but she could sense him beside her, as fraught with tension as she was.
She wanted to touch him. It was like a fever inside her blood. And now, she knew that she was hopelessly lost. The desire was truly overtaking her. She didn’t think she could resist it any longer. But what was worse, she didn’t want to.
***
Ambrose gazed with unseeing eyes out the window. His jaw was so rigid with tension that it was painful.
She was sitting beside him with closed eyes, trying to ignore him. But he knew she wasn’t asleep. He could see it by the stiff way she held her body. She was trying to fight this as much as he was, but it was a losing battle for both of them.
The coach lumbered on. He glanced around the carriage. Everyone had their eyes closed, either sleeping or resting. No one was looking.
He groped for her hand on the seat lying next to him, staring intently at her face. Her eyes sprang open in alarm, and she instantly stiffened. She looked around the carriage, realising that no one was looking at them. No one would be aware that he had taken her hand.
To reassure her, he picked up his hat off the carriage floor with his other hand, laying it on top of their joined hands. Now, no one would know of their connection even if they happened to glance in that direction.
He exhaled slowly, feeling the flood of desire overtaking him again at the feel of her hand in his. Slowly, he caressed it, feeling every finger. The softness of her palm. The hardness of her fingernails. He kept exploring it slowly. It was excruciating but so pleasurable that he almost groaned aloud.
Her head tilted back against the seat of the carriage, and he saw that her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. She was as aroused by this as he was. Slowly, she inched closer along the seat so that they were just barely touching.
He kept exploring her hand in his as they hurtled along the road. It was an exquisite torture, thickening the desire in his blood.
He knew now that he must have her, or else he would surely die. He didn’t care anymore about the prudency of it. He didn’t care that she was as innocent as the snow outside the carriage. He didn’t care about anything else. The future would take care of itself. Surely?
A small pang of misgiving entered his heart. He was playing with fire. She was not a woman to be dallied with. But he knew he was in too deep now, and there was simply no way out.
Chapter 21
Delia stared out the window of the carriage as it rattled along an isolated road. The sky had grown darker, but she knew it was only early afternoon. A flurry of snowflakes was swirling in the air. She knew that it was very cold in the carriage, but she wasn’t aware of it—mainly because of the heat emanating between her and Mr Hartfield.
She felt him squeeze her hand beneath his hat. He had been holding her hand for the entire leg of this journey, well hidden from the eyes of the other passengers. The contact was making her hand tingle and shooting sparks of desire throughout her body. She was in such a high state of arousal that it was almost unbearable.
To her shock, she felt him run a finger along the entire length of her palm. It was too much. She turned to him in the seat, staring at him. He was gazing at her with a look of such naked desire that she gasped, biting her lip.
It is too late, she thought despairingly.I am in his thrall and do not know how to extricate myself from it any longer.
She knew that she shouldn’t be doing it. She knew she should have snatched her hand away as soon as he had sought it. And if she hadn’t done that, then she could have pulled away at any point. But she had done neither. Instead, she had let her hand settle into his as if it were the most natural thing in the world—as if they truly were lovers, sitting side by side, without a care in the world except each other.
The close contact was heightening the tension to an extreme level. She ached to be in his arms, to feel his lips upon hers, to explore what was between them. Holding hands wasn’t enough. It couldneverbe enough.
But just when she thought she couldn’t take it for another second, the coach finally pulled in at an inn for a break. He let go of her hand as they all got out. It felt like an amputation. They stood gazing at each other as the other passengers headed into the inn.
“Would you like to go for a quick walk, Miss Parker?” His voice was deep and husky.
“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
