Page 11 of Miss Debenham's Secret
His mouth was warm.Sensual.She let his lips brush against hers and then felt the tip of his tongue sliding against the crease of her lips, as if to tempt her into opening them to his gentle invasion.Her body hummed with sensation and yet at the same time she was languorous.Weak with longing.
She didn’t remember moving, and didn’t remember his lifting her, but suddenly she was on his lap, in his arms, their mouths joined in long, delightful kisses.
Alistair’s body was lean and hard with muscle and so much bigger than hers.She’d wanted to burrow into him from almost the first time she’d met him and now she wrapped her arms about his neck, feeling the soft texture of his hair, the slight roughness of his beard against her cheek, the spicy male scent of him.
“Clarissa,” he murmured, and his voice saying her name was like a spur that made her want to go further, to do things she had only heard whispered about.Or dreamed about.She was an innocent, it was true, but she was aware Alistair was an experienced man.He could teach her.He could be her first lover.
Clarissa felt daring.Reckless.At this moment nothing else mattered but being with Alistair.
Chapter nine
CHAPTERNINE
Alistair didn’t know how far things might have gone.He had the uncomfortable feeling that they might have gone very far indeed.With such a delightful bundle in his arms, the scent of her skin and her soft hair, left loose about her shoulders to dry, and the warm wantonness of her kisses ...well, he’d forgotten he was supposed to be a gentleman.
But he was being purposefully obtuse.This was more than just male lust.Clarissa had wormed her way into his heart in a way no other woman ever had.He wanted her, despite all his protests to the contrary, and he wanted to put his stamp on her in the most thoughtless and arrogant of ways, by taking her body with his.
Just as well then that the maid interrupted them.
Vaguely he heard the door open and a soft female gasp, followed by the rattle of crockery on a tray, and the door closing again.For a moment he chose to ignore it but even with Clarissa’s warm lips clinging to his, her hands tangling in his hair, and her body curled into his, his conscience niggled at him.In the end, reluctantly, he caught her hands firmly in his and stilled them.
For a moment she lay against him, her dark lashes against her flushed cheeks, her breath quick from her parted lips.His kisses had brought colour to those lips and there was a mark on her cheek from his prickly stubble.
“Clarissa, we cannot,” he said gently, regretfully.“You know we cannot.”
Her eyes opened with an effort, the pupils dark, reflecting his face.He saw that he was flushed too, a desperate look to his face, and his hair was standing on end.
“Alistair,” she said huskily, and then cleared her throat.“I don’t care, really I don’t.I want to be with you.Just once.I want to know what it feels like to be with you.”
Yes, his body told him.Tell her yes.There are rooms here, we can take one, and then you can be with her.You both want to.
But the voice was not one he intended to listen to.He only had to remember his father and mother, and how they had been carelessly swept away into a life of deep unhappiness.
Alistair shook his head.He stood up, placing her on her feet at his side.She wobbled unsteadily and he held her until she had her balance.She was soft and he ached to pull her back into his arms, but he forced himself once more to let her go and then he stepped back.Away from her.Putting some distance between them in case he relapsed.
“Blame my principles,” he said with a wry smile.“I make it a practice never to seduce innocents.Especially innocents who are my friends.”
She blinked at him owlishly and then she seemed to shake off her lethargy.She turned away, reaching to smooth her hair, her hands trembling.Of course she would hate him now for seeing her so vulnerable and he didn’t blame her.She had offered him something very precious and he had turned her down.
“I’m not ungrateful,” he began, “I am honoured that you thought that I ...that you ...”He stopped as he realised that he was only making it worse.
“Please,” she said quietly.“Don’t say any more.”
He thought there was more he should say, but perhaps she was right.In time they might put this behind them.So instead he went to the window, stooping to peer out.“The rain has stopped,” he said in a false hearty voice.“We’d better start for home.”
“Of course.”She smiled a strained little smile.“I’ll fetch my things.”
And she went out and closed the door quietly behind her.
Alistair sighed and rested his forehead against the cold pane of the window.You could have handled that better, Lieutenant McKay, he said to himself.Now she’ll hate you.But better hatred than a ruined young woman to worry about when he sailed away.Clarissa had her life before her and although she probably didn’t realise it now she would later and be grateful to him for sparing her such complications.
Alistair had no doubts about what sort of husband he would make, even if he didn’t have his parents as role models—he would be away at sea almost all the time and his wife would be left alone, never knowing if he would return or if she would never see him again.In his experience naval widows were usually impoverished, the authorities giving them barely enough to keep heart and soul together.No, he didn’t want that for Clarissa.
She was much better off without him.
Chapter ten
CHAPTERTEN
