Page 50 of Gambling with the Earl
Without further warning, Guy lunged forwards and dived into a coming wave, surfacing moments later with rivulets of saltwater cascading down his muscular torso. Her lips parted at the vision. She should look away, but her eyes were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He laughed and shook the spray from his shock of hair before jumping in once more and gliding beneath the surface of the sparkling sea.
It was as if she had stepped into a different world, where the usual rules didn’t apply. There was only the bright, searing sunlight, the crashing of the waves and the distant call of the gulls. Only Guy, uninhibited from pain and unbound from decorum. Splashing in the water like a young man without a care.
“Kitty, it’s glorious.” He rose from the waves like some mighty deity, all rippling muscles and bronzed flesh. “Come join me.”
She laughed aloud at the absurdity of the idea. “You know I cannot.”
He walked steadily towards her, his fingertips cresting the waves. “I know of no such stipulation.”
Her mouth went dry with sudden longing. She wanted to tell him to stop. To come no nearer. With every step, he unleashed a sort of tension deep inside her core.
He reached out for her hand, and at the touch of his fingers she knew she was lost to propriety.
“My dress will be ruined,” she tried one last time.
He pulled her gently towards him, into the shallows. “Have you no other?”
She had but one other, and she should know better. But it was already too late. Her skirts grew heavy with water and then floated up around her. The cold rushed up her calves, making her gasp with surprise and delight. Suddenly, the urge to lower herself into the revitalising waves was overwhelming. She bent her knees, marvelled at the sensation of water rising around her thighs, and allowed herself to fall back. She straightened her legs and leaned back on her hands, delighting in the ebb and flow of the foam. Luxuriating in the release from oppressive heat. Her skirts swam up and around her, but she didn’t care. She shaded her eyes from the sun and found Guy gazing back at her with steady approval.
“You should come in further.”
“I cannot swim.” She worried briefly that her casual confession might have given away the circumstances of her upbringing since it was considered ill bred for a lady to know how to swim…but even the low-born daughter of the cordwainer—a girl the same age as Kitty—had stood in the shallows and watched her brothers splashing in the sea during the hot summers of their childhood. Mayhap it was something few daughters were allowed to enjoy, regardless of their birth.
“Then I shall come to you.”
He splashed towards her, his soaked breeches clinging to every bulging muscle. She allowed her eyes to rest on the flat plane of his stomach and felt again that fluttering tension wriggle inside her. Her breath shortened and her heart beat faster against her ribs. She grew conscious of her ridiculous, water-laden skirts, her flushed cheeks and the cap which had moulded to her head with sea water.
Newly emboldened, she pulled it off and flung it behind her in the direction of Guy’s folded clothes, not bothering to look to check where it landed. The rush of release as the faint breeze stirred through her hair was as liberating as the saltwater rushing about her bare legs. She ran her wet fingers through her long curls, uncaring that Guy was watching her.
She would give him this and more.
If he placed her now as Owain’s daughter, then so much the better. At least that would give her the opportunity to be honest.
“You should always wear your hair loose.”
She pushed a long tendril back over her shoulder. “I doubt Cook would approve.”
“Then it is lucky for us both that we are not in view of the castle.”
His words sank through her like a stone. She swallowed hard as rational thought rose up to quell her spiralling passions. She had already burned one bridge when she took the jewels from Guy’s bedchamber. Would she so willingly burn more by giving up her virtue? With a man who did not know her real name?
“Kitty,” he breathed, as if to prove her wrong. “In a moment, I’m going to kiss you. If you don’t want me to do so, you must speak up.”
Here was her final chance then, to return to her family a pure maid.
But what benefit would purity bring her, when she never hoped to marry? Neverwantedto marry?
She couldn’t imagine ever wanting another man. There was only Guy. This would be her last chance to know what it was to be loved.
She surrendered her purity readily, cupping her cold hands around his warm cheeks and drawing him towards her.
“I want you to kiss me,” she said. A surging wave ran up her bodice, urging her on.
His face lowered to hers. She knew instantly that this would be no chaste, exploratory meeting of lips. Not sweet. Not hesitant. His mouth claimed hers with an urgency that took her breath away. She sank against him, grateful for his muscular arm snaking around her back, giving her strength she could lean against.
His tongue moved against her lips, and she parted them eagerly, gasping at the thrill as his tongue found hers. He pulled her closer as a wave crashed over them both, soaking them through. Drenching salt water cascaded down her kirtle, like a fast-flowing river. Guy laughed and brushed back her dishevelled hair.
“I think we should move out of the water,” he said, his voice low and rough.
