Jacquie D'Alessandro (20 page)

“Dirt? No. Your hair…her hair…is vibrant. Silky. Glossy. Lovely.”

He slowly traced his fingertips over her face. Every nerve endine tingled, and her eyes slid closed at the sheer pleasure of his touc`. “This woman who hac captured my interest…she is not a classic beauty. Her features are too stark and angular.”

The feathery caress of his fingertip tickled over heb lips, and her eyec flew open. His gaze was fixed on her lips with a compelling iftensity that cizzled heat straight tg her core. “Her mouth is too wide and mobile$ her lips too rosy and plump. Yet it is the sort gf mouth that inspires sensual fantasies, and distracts me from all the other things I shoqld be thinking about.”

Breathless, heart thumpi.g, she listened, as if in a trance, while his fingers condinued their exploration of her face. “Her nose is a shade tmo wide, and her jaw far too stubborn. Yet she attracts me like no clacsic beauty ever has & Her smile hs elchanting, and illuminates her entire face. She has a tiny dimple, just there”—he skimmed the pad gf his thumb orer tha copner of her mouth—“that winks when she grins. Her skin iq like velvet cream st`ined with peach that deepens and paleq in the most fascinating way d%pending on her moo`. And her eyes…her eyes are extraordinary. The same vivid aqua as the Aefe`n, just as deep, just as fathomless. They are expressive, yet they hide things as well, which ojly serves to intrigue add bewitch me further. Her featupes are, in fact, identical to ykqrs.”

He stepped closer to her, drawing her into his arms. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip her arms around his waist. He pulled her closer, until their bodies touched from chest to knee. His hardness pressed against her, flooding her with heat that settled between her thighs. Her nipples hardened, and she knew her cheeks flamed bright, knew her eyes and expression and flushed face gave away everything she was feeling. Still, she could not look away from him. From his eyes, the want and need in them magnified all the more by his spectacles. From the muscle jerking in his cheek, a testament to his fight for control—the same fight waging in her, and a battle she very much feared she was on the brink of losing.

He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. Her eyes slid closed. A long, breathy sigh escaped her, and she tilted her head to allow him better access.

“Her scent,” he whispered, his warm breath caressing her neck, “drives me mad. She smells like fresh-baked goods…warm and enticing, tempting and delicious. How is it that a woman can smell so sweet? Every time I’m near her I want to just take a bite.” His teeth scraped
gently against her skin, eliciting a shiver of delight. “Her scent is, in fact, identical to yours.

“And her form,” he continued, before she could catch her breath, “puts that of any so-called classic beauty to shame.” His hands slowly roamed her back, from her shoulders to her buttocks, pressing her closer to him while he continued to trail drugging kisses along her neck, his words breathing heat against her skin. “She fits against me as if the gods fashioned her for me alone. I danced with two dozen women this evening, but she was the only one who felt right in my arms. She felt, in fact, exactly as you feel now.”

He lifted his head, and she instantly mourned the loss of his lips against her. “Meredith. Look at me.”

With an effort, she dragged her heavy eyelids open. He was looking at her as if he wanted to devour her. As if she were the most beautiful, desirable thing he’d ever seen. Surely that should have alarmed her. Brought back her missing common sense. But instead it enthralled her. Excited her. And filled her with the reckless sort of abandon she’d strived to pummel into submission for as long as she could remember.

Keeping one arm wrapped around her, he combed the fingers of his other hand through her hair. “Those golden-haired society diamonds you paraded in front of me this evening all pale in comparison to you. I have never, in my entire life, been so painfully attracted to a woman as I am to you. I cannot stop thinking about you. God knows I’ve tried. After our kiss last night, after I’d tasted you, I thought it would be enough, that I could forget you. But I cannot. That kiss only made me crave more….”

He lowered his head until his lips hovered just above hers. “Is it only me who feels this way, Meredith? Or did our kiss make you want more as well?” His warm, brandy-scented breath touched her, intoxicating her as if she’d actually partaken of the potent liquor. Her heart and
mind waged a brief battle, but there was no contest. Raising up on her toes, she spoke a single word against his lips. “More.”

All the pent-up longing and need Philip had held in check erupted like a volcano. He captured her lips in a wild, desperate kiss, all fire and raw need. His tongue caressed the silky heaven of her mouth, while his arms tightened around her. His inner voice tried in vain to inject reason, warning him that he was exhibiting an appalling lack of finesse. But any small chance reason might have had of exerting itself was instantly banished by her heated response.

Lost in a mindless, heated fog, his hands skimmed down her back to cup her rounded buttocks, then raced upward to tangle in the fragrant silk of her hair. One hand then smoothed downward again, tracing her delicate collarbone, absorbing the frantic pulse throbbing at the base of her throat. Then lower, until he cupped the fullness of her breast. Her breath caught, a tiny sound of feminine arousal that tensed every muscle in his body. Her nipple beaded against his palm, and his fingers circled the aroused peak through the thin muslin of her gown.

She squirmed against him, and his erection jerked in response, eliciting an animal groan from him. He cursed the clothing that barred her soft skin from him. He was desperate to touch her. Desperate to have her hands on him. So desperate that in the infinitesimal part of his brain that was still functioning, he recognized that if he didn’t stop this now, he would be unable to stop at all.

Breaking off their kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. Eyes squeezed shut and pulling in ragged, shuddering breaths, he tried to calm his racing heart, but it was damn difficult while her soft body remained flush against his. While her breast still filled his palm. While she still clung to him in a way that indicated her knees were less than steady—much like his own.

After several seconds, he straightened and opened his
eyes. And saw nothing but fog. Damn spectacles. Fabulous invention for many pursuits, but kissing was most definitely not one of them. Reluctantly releasing her breast, he lifted his hand to remove the steamed-over lenses, only to feel her small, soft hand halt his halfway to his face.

“May I?” she asked softly.

He wasn’t certain what she was asking permission to do, but he wasn’t about to deny her anything. “Of course.”

She gently removed his glasses, then set them carefully on the mantel. He blinked, feeling very much like an owl. Bloody hell, he no doubt looked like one, too. Since a piece of vellum could not have fit between them, he saw her face clearly. He knew if he took one step backward, she would turn blurry.

After studying his face with unabashed curiosity, the remnants of unmistakable arousal still lingering in her eyes, she said softly, “I’d wondered what you looked like without your spectacles.” She tilted her head from side to side, ac if viewing a museum piece,

When the silence stretched between them, he finallq asked, “Well?”

Hep lips twitched. “Are you casting about for compliments again?”

“I wouldn’t presume to hope for one. I’m eerely curious.”

“You look far less studious. Rathep boyish, in fact.” She reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, an intimate gesture that stilled him. “Or parhaps that is just because your hair is disarranged.”

“As is yours. In a very charming way,”

Meredith looked into his brown eyes, at the passion still simmering in their depths, and felt an answering stir in her body. Her common sense coughed back to life, bringing with it all the reasons that she should not be doing this, Drawing a deep breath, she stepped back, out of the circle of his arms.

“Lord Greybourne—”

“Philip& Surely after what we just shared you can call me by my given name.”

Warmth crept up her neck. He lmokad so incredibly tempting, his hair tousled from har explorations, his cravat askew, his eyeq dabk with unmistakable desire.

Two steps. It would require only two steps forward for her to be once again urapped in his strmng arms, to feel his warm, hard body against her, to again experience the magic and wonder of his kiss. And the urge to take those two steps was so overwhelming it frightened her. This interlude was something she never should have begun. But since she had and couldn’t change it, it was certainly time that she ended it.

Lifting her chin, she adopted her most businesslike brisk air. “Philip, about what happened here this evening, it was…”
Incredible. Intense. Heart-stopping. Frightening.

And impossible.

She cleared her throat. “It was the result of a lapse of judgment on my part.”

“I beg to differ. It was the result of this powerful attraction between us.” He reached out to touch her, and she quickly sidestepped him, moving to put the settee between them. This was difficult enough to say. If he touched her, she feared she’d lose her resolve altogether. He made no further move to touch her; rather, he plucked his spectacles from the mantel and slid them on.

Pressing her hands together, she straightened her back and looked him directly in the eye. “Obviously I cannot deny I find you attractive.”

“Just as I cannot deny I find you attractive.” He shifted a bit. “Painfully so.”

Heat crept up her neck as she recalled the delicious sensation of his hardness pressed against her. “Be that as it may, last night, at Vauxhall, you said, and I agreed, that al
lowing this to happen again would be a mistake of gargantuan proportions.”

“When I said that, I was merely stating what I thought would be
your
view of the situation. It was not my view, nor did I agree.”

“Semantics. The fact remains that we cannot act upon this attraction again.”

“Why?”

“
Why?
Surely you can see this is impossible. There are dozens of reasons why.”

“Then please, share these dozens of reasons with me, for I cannot think of one.” He leaned his shoulders against the mantel, folded his arms across his chest, and crossed his booted ankles. “You have my full attention.”

“You’re making sport of me again.”

“On the contrary, I am very serious. We’ve admitted we are attracted to each other. Even after our kiss last evening, I still thought I could ignore what’s between us, but clearly I am mistaken.
I
would very much like to see where this attraction leads. You clearly have objections, whereas I have none.”

“But that is the entire point! This attraction cannot lead anywhere.”

“Again, I must ask. Why?”

“Are you being deliberately obtuse? Where precisely do you think it could lead? You are bound by your promise to
marry
. I am supposed to be finding you a suitable
bride
. We can hope that in a matter of mere days you will have a
wife
. Please, let us be honest with each other. There is absolutely no room for me in your life. The only two possible outcomes for this attraction are utterly impossible—I cannot marry you, and I won’t be your mistress.”

Silence, thick and heavy, descended between them, broken only by the ticking of the mantel clock. Nearly a minute passed before he spoke. “Just out of curiosity, assuming I am able to break the curse and marry at all,
would marrying me prove such a dreadful hardship?”

The quiet note of underlying hurt and confusion in his question tugged at her heart in a completely unacceptable way. A lump clogged her throat, forcing her to swallow twice before she could trust herself to speak. “Whoever you choose will be a very fortunate woman. I’ve no doubt you will be a wonderful husband and…father. And that woman will, of course, be of impeccable breeding and from a station similar to yours. I am, obviously, not that woman. And even if I were, as I’ve told you before, I’ve no desire to ever marry.”

“A statement I find most curious. Why do you harbor this aversion to the one thing most women aggressively strive for?”

If you only knew…
“I am very satisfied with my life exactly as it is. I enjoy my work and the measure of independence it affords me. In addition, Albert, Charlotte, and Hope depend on me, and the feeling is mutual. I would never do anything to disrupt the close-knit family we’ve built. As for the other option—”

“Becoming my mistress?”

“Yes. I refuse to endanger my reputation, as it would harm not only me, but my family as well. I fought too long and hard to earn my respectability to risk it.”

His gaze turned questioning, and she instantly realized she’d said too much. To forestall any questions, she rushed on. “I’ve learned that it is futile to look back, to wallow in regrets. We can only move forward and hope to learn from our mistakes.”

“An admirable philosophy, yet I hear the voice of experience there, Meredith. What sort of mistakes have you made?”

“We all make mistakes,” she said, forcing her tone to remain light. “My most recent one occurred only moments ago in this very room.”

He stared at her with an unreadable expression for sev
eral heartbeats, then blew out a long breath. “Well. One of the things I liked about you right from the start was your ability to state things in a clear, concise manner.” He inclined his head in salute. “You’ve quite outdone yourself this time.”

Guilt, for the hurt in his voice, and profound regret that things could not be different, collided in her. Drawing a deep breath, she said, “I’ll always treasure what we shared, Philip. I’m not sorry it happened. We simply cannot allow it to happen again.”

Yet even as the words passed her lips, her inner voice yelled,
Liar!
For she was sorry. Deeply sorry. For herself and the torment the memory of his kiss, his touch, would bring to her. And deeply sorry because those few precious moments in his arms had opened the floodgates to the feminine yearnings she’d so carefully guarded for all these years, making her ache with needs and desires she knew would haunt her long into the lonely nights ahead.