Page 64 of Indecent Desires of a Proper Lady
Margaret felt a rush of relief. He was actually giving her a chance to speak! She knew that she should have rehearsed the appropriate speech, but she thought that once she saw him again, the words would come naturally to her. Unfortunately, they did not. Her face reddened as she attempted to find the right words, and Philip was watching her with a scrutinizing eye.
Eventually, she stuttered out, “I am sorry.”
Philip exhaled slowly.
“I did not want to kiss him. Truly. I told him that I was betrothed, and I know that I was meant to keep it a secret, but he needed to know. I do not know what had come over him, but ever since he arrived from France, he has been attempting to pay me special attention.”
Philip uncrossed his arms and kept watching her, as if his life depended on her next words. She continued. “He approached me in the drawing room and revealed his feelings to me. Then he kissed me; I pushed away, and that was when you arrived.”
She shrugged, feeling tears in her eyes and the fear that he might still reject her in her body. “I do not love Charles, Philip. I never have. I thought I had for so long, but really, it is you I love. The way I feel for you is more than I ever felt for Charles.”
Philip was still silent. Margaret waited and then took a breath. “If you do not accept my apology, then that is perfectly fair, of course. But,” she stepped a little bit closer. “I hope that you do listen. It is not Charles that I think of. But you. Only you.” Her last words were said in a whisper, and she waited agonizingly while different emotions flitted across Philip’s face.
It seemed like hours before he finally replied, and his answer was in a lift of his hand to touch the side of her arm. “You do not love Charles?”
She shook her head, feeling a grin brimming behind her lips. Her heart beat speedily against her chest.
He took another step closer and lifted his other hand to her arm. “You did not want his kiss?”
Margaret shook her head again, letting her smile free this time. He lifted her chin with his fingertips, and her heart did a little flip. “And I perhaps nearly lost the love of my life because I did not wait to hear an explanation?”
Margaret nodded, letting a relieved breath escaped her lips as she sunk into his sultry gaze. He was watching her now with fire and love, and she could not look away. “You forgive me, then?” she asked, the breath caught in her throat.
He grinned, and she felt weak at the sight of his handsome smile. The one she feared would never be directed toward her again. “There is nothing to forgive. I did not want to lose you, Margaret. My Love. I am sorry for being so stubborn, so rash.”
Margaret’s fingertips lifted, and she slowly moved across the fabric of his uniform which covered his arms. They soon settled behind his neck, and she felt a heat rise in her core as her fingers made tiny swirls there, moving through the hair at the base of his neck. “We are both stubborn and rash. You can see that I was not willing to lose you. We planned it all that you would come here, when you did not know I would be here.” Philip chuckled, but she said in a serious tone. “I could not lose you, Philip, not after life has been so full of loss already. I only just found you.”
“And I you, My Dearest Love. My soulmate. You are mine.” Then, as she pulled in a breath, Philip leaned his mouth to hers and brushed a kiss across her lips. He pulled away for just a second to look into her eyes, and then he kissed her again, this time moving his hands to her face, and smoothing his thumbs over his cheeks. “Mine,” he breathed against her mouth, and Margaret let the tears spring from her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Philip’s whole body was screaming for joy as his lips touched Margaret’s. He opened his mouth and moved his tongue forward, begging her to open to him. With a lovely sigh, that made a heat burn within him, Margaret did so, and he explored her, tasted her, feeling as if all was right in the world.
He moved his hands from her face to her waist, sliding his palms over the light muslin of her dress. How could he have been such a hot-headed fool, instantly believing the worst when the truth was far better than he could have imagined? He did not lose her; she was here in his arms.
Margaret pulled back from the kiss, and he yearned to pull her to him again at the sight of her pink cheeks and swollen lips. He wanted nothing more than to take her as his wife and then forever in his bed.
Margaret was smiling, and he kept his hands tightly bound across her back. “Philip Winston, you have no business kissing a woman like that before she is married. You are like a magician.”
Philip grinned wickedly and moved his thumb to stroke her bottom lip. “Well, a good magician has the best tools to work with, My Dear, and this mouth of yours,” he sighed. “If I could write, I would write poems about it.”
Margaret blushed even more and wrapped her arms tightly around him in a hug. “I love you, Philip Winston, and I want to marry you as soon as possible.”
He pulled her arms down from his shoulders and laid a light kiss on her lips. “And I love you. More than you know. We will be married as soon as we can. I will organize for the announcement today. And then…”
“And then what?” Margaret giggled.
Philip practically growled, he held her so tight. “And then we do not have to kiss in drawing rooms or worry about being found out. We will have our own place in the world. Our own bedroom.”
Philip could feel his body tense at the titillating thought of that, but Margaret pushed him away, laughing. “Then we will have to wait, even if it does sound wonderful.”
Philip nearly groaned at the way Margaret looked up at him so demurely, her eyelashes fluttering over her shocking-blue eyes. But then, he remembered the letter and what he had to do. His face fell.
Margaret put out a hand to touch the side of his cheek. “What is it, Philip? Have I said something?”
Philip gave her a small smile and kissed her on the forehead. “No, My Dear, not at all. But it is about Charles.”
“Charles?” Philip could see Margaret’s face flush.
