Page 54 of The Gentleman Was Right
“No. It was perfect, but I’m overly sensitive now, and my body needs to rest.”
His hand splayed open against her belly. “You didn’t find your pleasure.” His fingers moved gently against her skin. “I’m afraid I lost sight of anything except my own.”
“Oh.” She was surprised he’d noticed. Or cared. Basil had never seemed to. “I…uh…still enjoyed it. A lot. Being connected to you is…” She was unsure of how to put into words how much satisfaction she received from seeing him come undone. “…like a dream.”
His hand left her belly and cupped her cheek. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve such honesty.” Then he kissed her softly and laid his head on her pillow. He didn’t say anything else before he slipped into sleep.
It should have been easy for her to doze off, too, but his breath fluttered the hair that curled at her nape, and now that he wasn’t awake to distract her, she couldn’t avoid the thoughts in her head. They whirled and tangled and made her question everything she had done.
Loving Basil had taught her that it was hard for her to separate her physical response from her emotional one, and she’d hoped that the fact that she didn’t love Edward would give her a modicum of restraint over her feelings.
She should have known better.
She was nothing but foolish when it came to lust and attractive men.
It would not be easy for her to keep her heart uninvolved, and when her eyes finally closed, she couldn’t help wondering if it was too late.
Were her feelings for Edward already developing?
ChapterSeventeen
When Violet awoke that morning, she was relaxed, her limbs heavy with fatigue but devoid of tension. She was calm in a way that was unfamiliar as of late, and yet very welcome.
Peeling her eyes open, she saw nothing but her husband. He was mostly on his stomach, his head turned toward her, with his right arm curved around her torso. Because he was so close, she wasn’t able to see as much as she would have liked—just his handsome face relaxed with sleep, his tousled curls, and the slope of his shoulder. She spent far too long studying the contours of his cheek, the straightness of his nose, the fan of his fair lashes, and his slightly parted lips.
Memories of the previous night assailed her. Every look, every touch, every sensual moment replayed itself, and remembering made her ache in the best way.
She wanted a repeat.
Again.
And again.
She barely caught the groan that threatened to escape, and as she tried to slow her pounding heart, panic attempted to override arousal. Shewasn’tsupposed to desire him this much. And shedefinitelywasn’t supposed to wish for more. They had an arrangement, and she’dpromisedherself she’d remain emotionally unattached.
After only a single night, she feared she’d already broken her promise, because she wanted to stay in his arms until he awoke, and then she wanted to remain by his side for the remainder of the day. She wanted to know everything about him. Not just the way his body felt against hers.
Curiosity was dangerous, and by the time she slipped from his loose embrace, she was trembling. It was a different sort of trembling than she’d done the night before.
Not nearly as pleasant.
Because it was fine that she liked him and enjoyed his company. But it wasnotfine tocravehim. Nor was it fine toneedhim.
A physical connection was acceptable. Wanted, even.
But the way she felt after last night told her it was already more. So much more.
Regrettably, reminding herself that she refused to risk her heart by becoming emotionally entangled with another man changed nothing. Shestillwanted to crawl back into his arms and never leave.
Because the urge to rejoin him was difficult to ignore, it took the full strength of her will to turn away from the bed and begin to dress. Fortunately, he didn’t stir as she quickly pulled a gown over her head, wound her hair in a tight knot at her nape, and slipped out of the room.
The hallway didn’t offer enough distance from the temptation he posed, so she escaped to the main level of the house.
It wasn’t far enough either.
The impulse to run straight out the front door beckoned. She ignored it because she knew quite well that running away wouldn’t do any good.
Problems didn’t disappear when she avoided them.
