A Passion For Pleasure (28 page)

A wool coat slipped across her shoulders. The fabric smelled like James—sea air and a touch of something exotic. Cinnamon and cloves. Indian tea. Dark coffee. She breathed in the scent and allowed the familiarity of it to ease a bit of her despair.

“My dear Talia.”

His voice was gentle—not pitying or, worse, amused. Talia forced another breath into her lungs and turned. He stood right behind her, close enough that she could see the gold flecks of his irises and the faint scrape of stubble on his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her throat aching.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” He put his hand on her cheek. “Please believe me when I say you honor me deeply with your admission.”

Talia stared at him. She’d half-expected him to stammer out some sort of excuse, to find a way to be rid of her and have the whole debacle finished with. While he hadn’t done that, Talia sensed he had more to say…and none of it would be what she desperately longed to hear.

Fear seized her anew. Her heart raced.

He was so close to her. His palm was warm on her cheek. She stared at his mouth. How often had she wondered what his lips would feel like against hers?

Before he could speak again, Talia closed the scant distance between them and pressed her lips to his. Surprise stiffened James’s shoulders. He started to retreat, but Talia gripped the front of his shirt and increased the pressure of the kiss. Heat bloomed through her at the realization of a moment that had flourished so passionately and so often in her dreams.

James jerked back, inhaling a sharp breath. Determined to prevent his escape, Talia stepped closer, nudging her breasts against his hard chest. He tensed and gripped her forearms. She curved her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to settle her mouth more firmly against his.

He tightened his hold on her, even as his muscles corded with restraint. Talia dared to part her lips beneath his, both shocked and thrilled by her own boldness. Her blood coursed hot and swift through her veins as the warm, sugary taste of James filled her senses. He moved his hands to her waist, his body still rigid. His fingers dug into the fabric of her bodice as if he sought the strength to push her away.

And then, suddenly, he surrendered. A groan escaped him as his mouth opened to hers in a deep union that flooded with desire. Talia closed her eyes and sank into the kiss, savoring the sensation of being in his arms, his mouth locked to hers.

Sweet, delicious relief and yearning filled her heart. She unclenched her hand from his shirt and spread it across his chest, imagining what his taut, bare skin would feel like beneath her palm. She arched her body against his, emboldened by his capitulation and the coil of arousal wrapping around them…

James broke away from her. He stumbled back, his breathing hard and his eyes brewing with shock and unfulfilled passion.

Talia stared at him, her heart thumping. She pressed her fingers to her reddened lips, where the taste of him lingered.

“Bloody hell, Talia.” James’s voice was hoarse, jagged. He turned away and dragged a hand through his hair. “This cannot happen. This
will not
happen.”

Somehow, she managed to speak. “It did happen, James.”

He spun around to glare at her, his jaw set with frustration. “You are Northwood’s sister, for God’s sake!”

Tension lanced through Talia’s spine. She lifted her chin and sought the enviable pride that her mother had always embodied, the cool dignity Talia knew that she, too, possessed somewhere deep inside.

“I am far more than Northwood’s sister, James,” she said, leveling her voice to a flat, composed tone. “I am Lady Talia Hall. I am the only daughter of the Earl of Rushton. Even in the shadow of scandal, I am sought after by any number of peers, but I am offering myself to you without reservation. I want to be with you, James. I’ve wanted nothing else for—”

“Stop.” The command snapped from him with such force that Talia retreated a step. James cursed again and pressed his hands to his eyes. He paced to the windows.

“I’ll never get married, Talia, to you or anyone else,” he said, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. “Even if I did wish to wed, how could I subject a wife to a marriage in which her husband is gone months or years at a time?”

“You don’t…” Talia swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. Her future began to unfurl before her, bleak and empty. “You don’t have to leave so often, James. And someday you’ll have to—”

“I’ll have to what?” He spun to face her. “I’ll have charge of the estate, yes, but I never intended to beget my own heir because I won’t stay in England. I’m not meant for marriage, Talia, no matter how…appealing the offer might be.”

An ache constricted Talia’s heart. “You mean to tell me you’ll never return to London for good?”

“I’ve no intentions of doing so.” Some of the irritation appeared to drain from him as he approached her. His voice softened. “Talia, there’s so much to see in the world. So much to explore. I want to find the source of the Nile. I want to journey to Greenland one day. I want to map the interior of Australia and head an expedition to find geological specimens in China. It will take years to do everything I want to.”

“And then when you’re finally finished with your expeditions, you’ll be a lonely old man with no one to care for you or love you,” Talia snapped.

Her hand flew to her mouth. Shocked by the vehemence of her own words, she stared at James in mute apology.

A smile tugged at his lips. He reached out and brushed a tendril of loose hair away from her neck. The light touch of his fingers sent tingles of awareness through her blood.

“And you,” he said, “will be a cherished wife and a beloved mother. You will have an enormous circle of friends who value you beyond measure. You will be married to the love of your life.”

You are the love of my life.

Her heart crushed like a piece of paper within a tight fist. Nothing would keep James in England. Not even her.

“Please, Talia.” James lifted her face so she had to look at him. Self-directed anger darkened his brown eyes. “Don’t give me the gift of your love. I won’t do anything good with it. Save your heart for a man who truly deserves it.”

Talia clenched her back teeth together, fighting a sting of tears. Never before had James indicated he thought himself unworthy of anything, least of all a woman’s love. Part of her wanted to argue, to force him to understand that she would not have offered herself to him had she not known his value.

But Talia did have her mother’s pride, uncultivated though it might be. If James did not want her heart, then she would take it back.

“Very well.” She pulled away from the burn of his touch and crossed the room, clutching his still-warm coat around her body.

At the door, she paused. He stood by the sideboard, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets and his shoulders slumped. His hair fell in a disheveled mess across his forehead. A twist of longing, of love, went through Talia but she pushed it down beneath the layer of cold already creeping over her soul.

“James, I ask only that you keep my…my behavior a confidence between us.”

“Talia, I would die before causing you embarrassment or shame.” James cleared his throat. “No one will know of this. If…when I return, we will carry on as we did before.”

“Agreed.” Talia pulled open the door, turning away from him as her heart broke in half. “Best of luck on your expedition then, James. I hope you find what you seek.”

Because now I never will.

Talia hurried back to her room, blinded by tears.