Page 64 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
But she must walk away.
She would not dance with him again. But she would hold on to this memory and when she was old and her heart had become a dried-out, shrivelled thing, she would look back and remember this moment of happiness.
When the dance came to its conclusion and everyone spun to a halt, Henry’s hands let her go. She stepped back, falling out of a dream.
His hand cupped her elbow. ‘Shall we walk outside?’
That would be the most foolish thing to do. But Henry was reckless and she was heart-sore. She nodded. It was easier to admit in an action that she would betray Alethea again than to speak the word,yes.
They were only a few steps away from the doors. If it took more steps she might have come to her senses.
He opened the door, and the cool night air swept in. It was still light; it was not even twilight yet. Later, when the ballroom had been warmed by the exuberance of hours of dancing, all the French doors would be wide open and the terrace area would be full of people seeking fresh air, but this early there was no one else.
‘I do not know the Baron well and so I know his garden not at all,’ Henry whispered as the pressure of his grip on her elbow urged her on.
She glanced back at the windows behind them as they walked down a few steps and onto the lawn. She had not even looked to see if Alethea would notice them leave.
Henry did not allow her time to think, or change her mind. He kept her walking. ‘There must be somewhere private here.’
Where we might kiss…The thought whispered through her mind.
She was numb, she could not believe she was allowing this to happen a second time. Yet she had dreamed of his kiss, thought about it every night when she had gone to bed – and if this was the last time she would let herself see him… What would one more kiss that she might keep in her memory matter? She’d already crossed this boundary. The betrayal was complete, repeating it would add nothing to her guilt.
‘There is a path here.’ His touch turned her towards an opening in the high yew hedge. It led onto a path which then turned to the left and ran between hedges, progressing further away from the house.
The sound of the music grew more distant as their steps crunched on the fine gravel.
‘Here.’ At the end of the path there was a stone arbour, with pillars and a stone seat. He did not sit down, but stood facing her.
His hand braced her nape and drew her closer.
She lifted her mouth, entirely compliant.
She had no urge to fight this, her heart was full with longing.
I love you. The words whispered through her soul when his lips hovered above hers. He breathed out. Then his lips pressed onto hers gently, without any sign of recklessness. She held his upper arms as she pressed her lips back against his tentatively. She knew nothing of how to do this.
With one hand still embracing her nape, his other came about her and rested against the curve of her lower back. Her hands slid upwards and gripped his shoulders. His tongue slipped through her lips. She caught it between her teeth softly then engaged in a circling dance, and when his tongue retreated, she chased it into his mouth. Then he sucked her tongue.
She was used to studying nature’s tiniest details, and now she felt every detail of her body’s response. It ran into her blood and it made her muscles ache with a sweet pain as her body pressed against him of its own accord. This was a physical choice, not a decision. He had told her the truth if he felt the same.
Her arms wrapped about his neck as the skirt of her dress crushed against his thighs and her breasts brushed against his chest.
His hand slid from the small of her back to her bottom and pulled her tighter against him.
She was breathless and thirsty.
His other hand fell to clasp her bottom too and then she was leaning back against the cold stone wall of the arbour; the pressure of his fingers bracing her through her skirts and petticoats, squeezing her bottom as his kiss left her mouth and touched the skin along her jaw.
Her head fell back against the stone as he kissed the skin below her ear and then a pathway down her neck.
‘Henry.’
They should not be here. She should not be letting him do this.
He kissed the hollow where her neck turned to her shoulder and his hand came about her and cupped her breast over her gown. He’d taken the speaking of his name as a request for more. It had not been that.
His thumb slid over the material, stroking her nipple.
