Page 11 of Lady Willa's Divinely Wicked Vicar
Chapter 3
Wills stood pretending to listen to her friend Fiona Chastain ramble on about a certain fellow across the ballroom. She would be wrong to meet the devilishly good-looking Reverend Compton anywhere. Weak to allow herself to be charmed by him. Guilty of hurting him if she met him in the library and by her presence showed that she cared for him.
She should not lead him on. Had that not been her downfall before? Had she not been too carefree with her attentions and caused Lord Williams and Lord Dennybrook to pass away?
Oh, but the imp in her was drawn to the good vicar. Quite wrong. It was the woman in her who wished to be courted and complimented by a man she deemed intriguing. Or, to be brutally honest, her romantic heart was captivated by his kindness and humor and his unwise persistence on this matter of hers.
“Forgive me,” she apologized to Fiona, “I must find the ladies’ retiring room.”
“Down the main hall and…oh, but you know where it is. You’ve been here as often as I!”
Wills smiled. “I shall return and meanwhile…it appears that your gentleman makes his way over to keep you occupied.”
To insure speed, she paused in the hall, one hand to one pillar, and removed her slippers. They pinched as she walked so running in them was like prancing on broken glass. Shoes in hand, she rushed along the halls toward the library, her bare feet hardly touching the floor in her haste. She’d never had any rendezvous with men. This one offered temptations of masculinity she’d not tasted before. Flavors of the sweetness of a clergyman’s optimism mixed with the zest of intellect and humor.
She fumbled with her slippers as she turned the handles of the library doors and swirled inside. The moonlight through the far windows outlined his silhouette. His head was noble, his shoulders broad, his hips lean and legs long. A perfect model of a gentleman.
She couldn’t help it that she giggled.
“It’s good to hear you laugh.”
His voice, that mellifluous baritone, washed over her like a warm bath. Her skin tingled and her nipples hardened.This is so deliciously risqué. And with a vicar, too.
What would He think of her now? Seducing a man of the cloth!
She should leave.
But her knees wobbled. She squeezed her eyes shut, summoning strength to go. She found none.
She didn’t have to open her eyes to know that he stepped near, in arm’s reach. That bergamot of his suffused her nostrils. Her belly heated. Her gaze met his. The sight of him, intent on her with those sultry lips, the height and breath of him a huge protective animal, seized her heart. She wanted more than his prayers or his advice. More of his humor. Hours of it. Yet she should build walls around her own impulses and save him…and her own soul, too.
She smiled at him in a show of normality. “I’m here only to learn what my answer is.”
He stepped so close, she swore her gown melted away in the heat of his nearness. “Are you?”
She swallowed. “And you’re here to tell me what I might expect.”
“Ah.” He reached out and with two fingers he wended his way down her cheek from the corner of her eye to that of her lips. “Expect a man who adores you.”
“Soon?” Was that she, whispering?
“Very.” The word sounded like a promise.
“So I mustn’t…”
“Agree to marry just anyone.” He lifted her chin. “No.”
“Because?” She had no breath as he lowered his lips to hers. And she let him…oh, yes, she let him brush his mouth on hers. His lips were soft, his demand firm, his desire for her palpable and intoxicating.
“That would be a sin.” He drew her against him, his body fitting hers from breast to ribs to hips to thighs.
“Why?” She had to know. Did she beg?
He threaded his fingers through her hair and tantalized her with his angel’s touch. She was flush to his magnificent body, warm, hot, seared, pressed to the door. She felt each inch of him, iron hard and ready to have her. “Because there are reasons to wait.”
“Such as…?”
“This,” he said and seized her mouth in a swoop of possession. On a groan, he crushed her against him, his lips the fiery brand she’d craved. He broke away, said something that sounded like a curse, and returned to take her mouth again. She slanted her head and he took her invitation. This time, his tongue invaded the cavern of her mouth and swept away all her morals. She dropped her slippers and clutched him closer, dearer still.
