Page 62 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
He headed back to where their secrets waited to be sealed, leaving them quite alone.
The horse she sat upon began to gradually rise. It peaked, then slid down. Back up—
It was almost like being in a steeplechase—not nearly as thrilling but exceedingly joyous. It caused an incredible lightening of her heart, as though her life had yet to be touched by disappointments and disenchantment.
“There,” Rexton said quietly, his bared hand—when had he removed his gloves?—cradling her jaw, his thumb touching the uplifted corner of her mouth. “That’s what I wanted to see. Your smile.”
She couldn’t look away from him, from the way his eyes studied her lips as though he’d never seen anything quite as enchanting, as remarkable.
“I’ve never seen you smile before. Not from pure pleasure. It’s lovely.” He lifted his gaze, held hers as though he might never release it. “I knew it would be.”
The wonder in his voice, the gladness of it signaling his joy at seeing her smile touched something deep inside her, something she’d thought locked away forever.
“A roundabout makes one feel carefree.” Although unable to breathe apparently, as she sounded rather breathless. However, it could have been because she was noticing how rough the edges of his fingers were, how delicious it might feel to have them gliding over the sensitive skin of her breasts, circling her nipples, pinching them.
He scraped his thumb over her lower lip. “Did he steal them from you? Your smiles?”
She didn’t need to ask to whom he was referring. “I don’t want to talk about him. Not when we’re together. All of that is best forgotten.”
“Tell me he deserves it and I shall see him ruined.”
Her stomach tightened with the knowledge he would do that for her. No one, not even her father, had ever wondered if the blame for her actions should have been laid at Downie’s feet. She shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve ruination.”
He studied her as though he suspected her of lying.
“I was a silly girl. I’ll say no more than that. Don’t ruin this moment by pressing for more.”
“I want your smiles. I want your laughter.”
“I want your kiss.” She’d never been so bold as to state what she wanted when it came to what transpired between a man and a woman.
His eyes darkened. He moved in. The damned horse carried her away. Brought her back. His lips touched hers for only a fleeting moment and then they were again separated. Up and down she went. A touch. A separation.
The ride began to slow. The horse lowered and stayed where it was. Rexton placed his hand behind her head and guided her toward him, opening his mouth to hers. He didn’t need to prod her this time, didn’t need to entice her into parting her lips. She wanted to taste him fully, to stroke her tongue over his, rough velvet to rough velvet. Her position on the horse put her just a little higher than him. She liked the angle, the way he bent his head back, how easily she could scrape her fingers through his hair. She did wish she’d removed her gloves, but she didn’t want to stop now to do so. She simply wanted to remain lost in the sensations coursing through her.
With his mouth alone he elicited sparks of pleasure that danced along her nerve endings. She couldn’t imagine how marvelous it would be when his entire body was involved. With his hands clamped around her waist, he slowly slid her off the wooden horse and held her aloft as though she were spun from moonbeams. Quarter inch by tormented quarter inch, he lowered her to the platform, her body pressed to his so she was aware of buttons and bulges.
Drawing back, he pressed a kiss to her chin, her temple—and held her there, his harsh breath rasping against her ear as though he’d dashed up a towering hill. “I told Mr. Durham we would be only an hour.”
With her face pressed to his chest, she could hear the thudding of his heart. “We should be off then.”
“Yes.”
Leaning away, he reached down and took her hand. “You may have well ruined roundabouts for me. I won’t be able to look at one without thinking of you.”
She couldn’t recall anyone offering her such a beautiful sentiment. And she wouldn’t be able to look at one without remembering the night she might have fallen a little bit in love with him.
He wanted to hold her, kiss her, take her to his residence and make wild, passionate love to her until dawn. Instead he sat opposite her in the coach because he didn’t intend to take her quickly or like a savage—and he wanted her so badly he wasn’t certain he could restrain himself.
Her smile... her smile had unmanned him.
“Your own children will play on that roundabout,” she said quietly, gazing out the window.
He’d drawn the curtains aside. The inside of the carriage was dark. No one was going to be able to make out their features. His coachman and footman weren’t in livery. They’d actually embraced the notion of going on a clandestine outing. He’d left disguising themselves to them. They’d done a remarkable job. “I suppose they will, yes.”
“Gina is correct. You’re getting up in years. You can’t put off marriage much longer, not if you want a young wife.”
He wondered what she was thinking, why she was discussing his future. “I may have already missed the mark on that. Do you know what my first thought was when I was introduced to Gina?”
