Page 62 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
“I don’t think, Miss Elizabeth, you are very good at judging men’s character. Mr. Wickham is not a good man. My cousin is not a bad man, but he is not responsible either. If you are looking for someone who will be good to you, and you don’t see that’s me—”
“Oh, because you’ve been so very good to me thus far?” she demanded.
He didn’t answer that, because he supposed, from her perspective, he was probably just some wretchedly silent dark specter of a man, glaring at her all the time. He shifted on his feet, and he was deflated, entirely deflated, even there, most especiallythere. He was going to have to wish her joy with Richard, and he would never have her.
First, he was going to punch Richard, punch himhard. Then he’d have to wish him joy.
He’d waited too long, and he’d been stupid with her.
She stood up from her chair, and now they were both standing. She took a step toward him.
“Tell him you’ve changed your mind,” he said, his voice scratchy. “A woman can get out of a marriage agreement much more easily than a man. Tell him that.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything,” she said, breathless, “with anyone.”
His heart leaped in his chest. What had she said?
And then, suddenly, she was there, just there, both of her palms pressing into his chest, her body pressing into his body, and he could no longer think anything at all. He took her in his arms, and it was as natural as breathing. He put his mouth on hers, and it was like all the stars in the sky exploded as one.
She made a little noise in the back of her throat, and he made an answering one.
And then they werekissing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HIS MOUTH WAShot and wet and she liked the feel of it. Shocking, yes. Shameful, yes. She didn’t care.
He had his arms around her. One circled her waist, and the other on her back, his palm splayed out against her, urging her body tightly against his.
She felt small and soft against him, engulfed by his firmness and his larger size. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She had the inclination to climb him, to wrap her legs around him as well. It was madness and she resisted. But she did press in closer. She did move one of her legs around one of his legs, just barely, just an inch, just—
He moaned and the hand on her waist migrated down to touch the curve of her backside.
She gasped in shock and—oh, why did that feel—?
And then his mouth was on her neck, her chin—
She must have tipped her face back when she gasped.
But now he had claimed her mouth again and thekisses, they were like falling into a pit of sparks and flame. She was singed. She was lit up. She was bursting into flame herself.
She liked everything about it. She liked the heat of him, the solidness of him. She liked the way it felt to be touching like this, touching everywhere. She liked his scent. She had liked it before, but up close like this, surrounded by him, it was entirely different. And the kissing, she hadn’t known kissing could be quite so prolonged or that it could feel sooverwhelming.
She—
“The door is open,” she panted, a spike of horror going through her as she backed away from him. Of course the door was open, because here she was, alone, with a man who was not her husband, and it wasn’t even remotely proper, except that he had proposed marriage, and kissing was permitted if a couple were engaged, except, well, she didn’t think the kissing was supposed to be likethat, and she had not actually accepted him.
He backed up until he collided with the mantle of the fireplace. “My apologies. My sincere apologies.”
“Mine too,” she said in a tiny voice.
Silence.
He gazed at her with that grim expression on his face of his, like he was in sorrowful suffering.
She smiled. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t mean to laugh at him.
But then he smiled, and his countenance lit up in such a way when he smiled. Had she seen him smile before? It was like watching the sun rise.
