Page 34 of One Night with Mr. Darcy
Now, a smile spread over his face. “I can’t believe this. It’s all I’ve wanted, and I had never thought—” His voice broke, and he never finished his sentence. He was still smiling, but his eyes were shining.
She was seized by a sudden urge to want to touch him. And so, without thinking, she did. She reached across the table and took his hand and squeezed it.
He seemed to jolt at her touch.
Their gazes met and snagged.
He got to his feet, slowly, still staring down at her. He came around the table and sat down next to her on the couch.
Her heart began to beat very, very fast.
He looked deeply into her eyes. Then his gaze flitted down to her lips. When they met her eyes again, there was a question in his expression.
She said yes, not with her voice, but with her body, with her whole being, every sinew of her screamedyes.
So, then he kissed her.
She molded into him, opening her mouth to him, clutching his shoulders. It had been years since she touched him, but it felt right and easy to do it now. They belonged this way, in each other’s arms. They belonged to each other.
He slowly broke the kiss, but he didn’t break away from her. “Shouldn’t have done that.”
“Oh,” she said. “No, I suppose not.”
“You are not mine to kiss,” he whispered.
“I think I am,” she said.
He kissed her again at that, harder, wrapping his arms tightly around her, crushing her small form in his large, strong arms.
She whimpered into his mouth.
Abruptly, he released her and got up. He was shaking. “Damnation. Why do I become thiswayaround you?”
“A-apologies, I didn’t mean—”
“No, no, Elizabeth, no. I need to be strong. I can’t—we can’t—it’s wrong. You are a married woman.”
“Yes.” She looked down at her hands. She was twisting her fingers together in her lap.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I would like to be part of William’s life. I need to be. I don’t know… I can’t seem to control myself when it comes to you, however. So, I don’t see how it can happen without… without… it’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
She bowed her head. “He’s going to die.” It was a small, tiny whisper.
He let out a breath.
She cringed. “Oh, I repent of it. I didn’t say it. It’s too wretched to possibly—”
“It is,” he agreed. “I shan’t be led down a chain of small compromises that ends in my behaving even more dishonorably to you than I already have. You deserve much better than this from me.”
She shrugged, a helpless gesture. “Let us not make it about what I deserve, sir.”
“Now, now, I won’t hear this,” he said, sitting back down, his voice firm. “We have just finished absolving each other for the sins of the past and blaming it on absinthe, so that must be enough. You were innocent, then.”
“If it’s a balancing of the scales, sir, look.” She gestured around the room. “Have I not gotten much more than I deserve already?”
He looked up at the ceiling. “Howdidyou charm my aunt into this?”
“I didn’t!”
