Page 10 of Seducing an Earl under the Mistletoe
He felt the magnetic connection between them deepen, and as their lips met in a tender kiss, the world around him seemed to fade into the background. The warmth of the moment enveloped him, as his confusing emotions intertwined with the little reason he had left, and the passion that had been simmering just beneath the surface of his consciousness burst into flames.
Her kiss became more fervent, a dance of desire and longing that had been building up. He could feel it, too, that intoxicating mix of emotions and chemistry which swept him into a realm of intimacy he yearned for. It began as a soft, tentative meeting of the lips, becoming an electric fusion of desire and yearning.
As their mouths melded, the intensity of his need grew. His lips moved in perfect synchrony with hers, a slow and passionate dance that refused to diminish. It was a kiss filled with a yearning that had been suppressed for far too long, a yearning that now found expression in the meeting of their mouths.
Their tongues brushed against each other, igniting a fire that sent shivers down his spine. It was a kiss that tasted of longing, aching desire, and the promise of something more.
Each lingering touch of her lips spoke of an unmistakable understanding, a connection that transcended words. His breath mingled with hers, hot and desperate, as she clung to him, lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of the present moment. It was a kiss that felt like coming home, a kiss that left him both breathless and wanting more.
He pulled her closer, unable to let go, while he relished the sensation of her fingers gripping the nape of his neck and keeping him even closer to herself. He didn’t want this moment to end, for if it did, he knew that this would never happen again. It couldn’t.
Arthur, his emotions a whirlwind of confusion and desire, pulled back first, his breaths heavy and ragged. He looked at Catherine, searching her eyes for any sign of regret or discomfort. But he couldn’t see any of that. All he could see was the same desire he himself felt, that unquenchable thirst for the presence of the other.
“I…I’m sorry, Catherine,” he stammered, his voice laced with regret. He knew that by doing what he did, he put her reputation in danger. “I should not have let it go that far. It was the drink, clouding my judgment.”
Catherine, though surprised by his sudden withdrawal, remained composed and understanding. She offered a reassuring smile, although her honest, genuine response caught him off guard. “Arthur, there’s no need to apologize. I enjoyed the kiss, too. But perhaps it is best if we don’t let the moment sweep us away.”
He nodded, relieved by her understanding. “Yes, you’re right. I know that London society is different, and I’ve…I’ve never been very adept at this.”
“Neither have I,” she admitted. “But much happens in London and some things you just cannot unhear or unsee. The balls are usually places of propriety, but sometimes, one can hear or even see much in the darkened hallways.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “That is why I said that I’m not very adept at these things. Balls make me a little nervous, to tell you honestly.”
She nodded with comprehension. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be out here with me,” she pointed out.
Their conversation allowed them to bond, to bridge the gap that had separated them before. The honesty they shared in that moment made Arthur realize that it wasn’t just Catherine’s beauty that stirred him; it was her depth, her understanding, and her kindness. It was more than just his blood boiling from their passionate kiss. It was more, and this frightened him beyond belief.
Catherine, wanting to lighten the mood, smiled at him. “In exchange for that stolen kiss, how about a dance?”
Arthur’s eyes lit up at the invitation, seizing the chance to change the topic. “I would be honored.”
They found their way back to the grand ballroom, the lively atmosphere drowning them with its lights and noise, standing in stark contrast to the peaceful yet passionate moment they had just shared. Just as Arthur had intended to take Catherine straight to the very center of the dance floor, where the other dancing couples were already swirling to the sound of the waltz, he was soon intercepted by his mother.
“Ah, there you are, my dear!” she told him with a warm smile, her eyes gleaming with delight.
Before she could say anything else, his eyes fell on the young woman who was standing right next to her. She was a vision of regal elegance and refinement, commanding attention simply by standing there. Her blonde hair was impeccably styled in a bun, revealing a fair and flawless complexion, with a delicate rose tint gracing her cheeks.
Her eyes were a striking shade of green, sharp and perceptive. As he had expected, her attire was an exquisite gown, a testament to the latest fashion, embodying the epitome of a young woman of high society, a young woman who certainly did not want to be here in Brighton for the holidays.
He understood the feeling, for he shared exactly that sentiment. He didn’t want her to be here, either. But that was not something he was supposed to decide on. It was a decision that rested on the shoulders of both their families, and they seemed to have made it already.
“Margot and her family arrived earlier this afternoon,” his mother continued, gushing with joy. “We are so looking forward to spending the holidays together.” She paused for a moment, pressing her hand to her chest. “I know your dear brother would have wanted us to.”
Arthur didn’t want to discuss his brother right now. In fact, he didn’t want to discuss anything or even be here. But he couldn’t run away either.
“Lady Margot,” he greeted her politely, without any emotion in his voice. Her response was the same. He then remembered that Catherine was still standing by his side. He knew that this looked bad. It looked very bad. But not introducing them would look even worse.
“Lady Catherine, this is Lady Margot…” This was where he stopped.
How was he supposed to introduce this young woman? His late brother’s betrothed? A friend of the family who was now to become his own wife? And yet, saying nothing created more mystery than any of these explanations ever could.
Although he spoke very little, Catherine could understand that something was going on, something he did not want to dwell on. Her eyes widened with surprise, but she didn’t say anything else. He wondered if she thought him a rake now, which could not have been further away from the truth. Or maybe it was the truth? Because, after all, he was being forced to marry this woman.
“I think my sister is looking for me,” Catherine said, which Arthur knew was just an excuse. “But do come find me when it is my turn for that dance.”
Before he could even nod to that, Catherine disappeared in the crowd, leaving Arthur and Margot to themselves. At that moment, not even realizing what had just happened, his mother took his hand and connected it with Margot’s.
“Why don’t you two have a dance?” she suggested.
