Desire In His Eyes by Kaitlin O'Riley Page A

closer to her.
    “Harrison,” she whispered low. She kissed him, her lips covering his.
    She had never kissed a man before. Men had always kissed her. It was odd, but she wanted to kiss Harrison Fleming. She wanted to taste him, to feel him. Her tongue slipped into his warm mouth moving with his tongue. She sucked in her breath, reveling in the feel of him.
    Harrison growled low and wrapped his arms tight around her waist. He moved his lips along her jaw, down her throat. Juliette closed her eyes and arched her back, tilting her head back with her arms clutching his shoulders. Harrison’s heated kisses moved lower, kissing her neck, kissing her collarbone, kissing her chest along the edge of her cotton chemise. When his mouth sought her nipple through the fabric of her chemise, Juliette gasped.
    Her eyes flew open and they shared a heated look before he lowered his head to her chest again. With her heart pounding erratically, she let Harrison kiss her breasts. The very sensation weakened her, melted her.
    Gently he eased her back on the bed, until she lay flat. Grateful for the pillows beneath her head, Juliette looked to Harrison, wishing for him to continue. Laying there in her men’s trousers and her kiss-dampened chemise with her hardened nipples clearly visible she suddenly felt quite exposed and somewhat vulnerable. And undeniably excited.
    Harrison loomed over the bed, staring down at her. A hard look suddenly crossed his face, and his golden brows drew together in a frown. “This is not going to happen between us.”
    She blinked in mute surprise.
    He repeated again, his voice hoarse, “This is not going to happen.”
    Suddenly cold, she wished she could pull the blanket up to cover herself. But she would not do so in front of him. “Are you saying that to me or to yourself?” she finally murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
    He gave her another hard look. “To both of us.”
    Before she could respond, Harrison stalked from the room and left the cabin, closing the door behind him.
    Stunned by his abrupt departure, but not sure if she was more relieved or disappointed by it, Juliette lay in Harrison’s bed mutely staring at the low-beamed ceiling. Her cheeks reddened in a burning mixture of mortification and shame. Covering her face with her hands, she groaned softly. The swaying of the ship seemed to increase, rocking her, as she clutched a pillow to her chest and curled up in ball on Harrison Fleming’s bed.
    What had just happened between them?
    She had allowed him to take ridiculous liberties with her.
    Admittedly, she had enjoyed every second of those liberties, but still, she should not have allowed it in the first place nor should she have enjoyed it so much.
    An odd thought occurred to her.
    Had Harrison not enjoyed it? Had he not enjoyed being with her? He had seemed as though he were taking as much pleasure in their encounter as she was. The way he touched her, looked at her, kissed her all indicated that he was enjoying himself. Had she done something wrong? Why had he left her with such abruptness? Again? And why did she feel so terribly that he had left her feeling…so…unfulfilled?
    She should be relieved. And thankful.
    But she only felt an odd sense of hurt and the ache of unfulfilled desire.
    Juliette knew what happened in a man’s bed. Well, not literally and certainly not from personal experience, but she had gathered enough information during her life to know what the technicalities entailed. Hadn’t she and Colette spent hours secretly reading that intimidating medical text in their father’s bookshop, A Complete Study of the Human Anatomy and All Its Functions ? Didn’t they spend countless more hours trying to figure out what it actually meant? When finally Colette became experienced in that area, her older sister had eventually, after much coaxing and begging and pleading, enlightened Juliette with some of the nuances of the act. Colette had assured her that it was pleasurable