Page 54 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
He sank his fingertips into the cap of her curls. “I must not.”
“Then allow me…” She slid her fingertips around the cords of her neck and brought his mouth to hers. She brushed her lips on his.
He groaned, his tongue invaded, and he explored all of her. She let him. Let him have her all. The taste of him, the power of him, the passion of him, was an elixir she’d never had with any man. It broke over her like a tide. She caught her breath, and her gaze sought the same passion in him. “I’ve never had a man protect me, want me, need me.”
His fervent eyes drank her in. “I am thrilled to be all of that for you.”
“What can I be for you?”
“Friend. Confidant.” His mouth turned down.
Was he sad? How could he be? She wanted him. Did he not reciprocate? “Not lover?”
“That, we must stop to consider, my darling.” He crushed her close, his hand against the back of her head, cradling her to him. “We must be mindful of your future.”
She pushed him away. “You stop because of my aunt.”
“No.” He stood, his massive shoulders lax, his fists curling, defeated. “I stop because of you. I will not hurt you.”
She gasped. Her heart hurt at his words. “Will you? Hurt me?”
He put up a hand, pointed a finger in the air, and dropped it. Defeated once more, he shook his head. “Never intentionally. Never by plan. But—”
Insult made her want to stomp away. Yell like a harpy. But she caught her tongue, held her wrath. “You have a sweetheart?”
“No.”
“You have a wife?”
“No. No one.”
“What, then?”
His nostrils flared. His eyes grew grim. “I have a mission. And you are not part of it. What we do here…” He gazed around as if he looked for phantoms. “What we do here is for you. What I must do here is beyond that, and I doubt you would want to aid me.”
She took a step forward, his words striking fear through her like a hot arrow. What did he do? More than buy goods, china, rugs, wine? “Why wouldn’t I want to aid you?”
“You have a life here. Your aunt, whom you love. Your friends. Your Amber, whom you so desperately wish to find. When I am done here, I will return to England. That is not your home. You do not like it. You said so yourself.”
He took a step backward, his hands out, palms up, warding her off. “If we go forward, you could become pregnant. Passionis not a subtle thing. One does not think. One only acts in the throes of all that wanting and—”
“And you do not want me.” She was sick with longing. How foolish she must look to him.
He had her in his embrace again, and this time, his hand to her jaw, he kissed her like it was the only thing he wanted to do before he died. His lips were rough, raw with hunger and insistent with need, soft with rapture. “I want you. I do. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
Hers were filled with tears.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I never mean to make you cry.” He thumbed her tears away. “I want you, Gus. Tonight, tomorrow, as many tomorrows as we can take. But if you think we will escape the results of all that wanting, all that caring, you are wrong. I would take care not to give you a child. But even at that, what we would share would tax us in our hearts. I would not have you hurt, darling. I would not have me, either.”
“Well then!” She struggled to leave his arms.
“No!” He pulled her back. “Hear me. You must know that if I ever got you with child, I would want him or her as mine.Mine.And I would want you to become my wife to make that so. I will have no by-blows in the streets or in anyone else’s house to take their name. I am more man than to allow a bastard to walk this earth without my name and claim. Think on that before you ask for my kisses. God knows, I will try to think on it before I am so tempted to taste you again.”
He put her from him, a muscle in his jaw working. “Come now. Let’s have our supper.”
Chapter Fourteen
And what arotten meal it was, too.
