Felt, in fact, as though she'd died and had been lifted to a place that must surely be paradise. A soft, breathless sigh escaped her.
At the sound of her pleasure, however, Wylde suddenly stiffened. Abruptly, he ended the kiss, pulling his face back.
There came a moment of absolute silence and stillness.
Lissa forced her eyes open, seeing only the obsidian depths of Wylde's gaze. He studied her for a long breath of a moment.
"Have you no fear of me?" he finally asked, his voice husky, demanding. "I could, after all, be the darkness that would steal your light... could be a man of scarce morals... someone who could eat you alive."
Lissa felt herself blush crimson. How could she charge him with possessing no morals when she herself had allowed him to kiss her so intimately?
"You—you do not seem so terrible at the moment," she whispered honestly, "and I doubt you could be so... so heartless as to do the things you just said."
The moment the word "heartless" passed her lips, Lissa wished she could snatch it back.
Wylde's gaze instantly shuttered. His body stiffened. "Faith," he muttered. He reached up and firmly guided Lissa's hands away from where they had been anchored against his chest. "I suggest you take yourself home. Now. Before either of us says or does something more we might come to regret."
He might just as well have thrown a bucket of icy river water in her face.
Lissa felt her entire body burn with a hot blush, caused not only by her careless word choice, but also because of her wanton behavior thus far. She immediately dropped her hands to her lap and clasped them tight together. She felt Wylder's hard gaze on her.
"You must think the worst of me, sir," she whispered, feeling miserable inside, "but I—I should like you to know that wh-what I just allowed to transpire between the two of us is... is something I've never done in my life before today."
"No?" he asked.
"No," she said, feeling the shame burn deep, deep inside of her—though not nearly as deep as the effect of his kisses had gone.
Wylde touched one finger to her chin, forcing her to look up to him.
Lissa thoroughly expected another tongue lashing. It never came.
"For what it is worth, I never for one second thought otherwise," he said.
Lissa didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more miserable. Was his comment meant to soothe—or did it indicate that her return kisses had been lacking, even schoolgirlish?
She had no idea, and at the moment, since she'd so willingly allowed her good sense to fly with the wind, she did not dare to dissect the issue further. Too, she needed Lord Wylde to help her catch the trout that had eaten Lord Langford's locket and also needed his presence to help ward off her many suitors. It was best that she just get beyond this uncomfortable moment and never, ever, let herself lose control with him again.
"Yes, well," Lissa said, clearing her throat and pulling back from the touch of his finger against her chin, "I—I think it wise we both forget about that—that bit of business. We should just agree that I, er, rather, the both of us, suffered a momentary lapse of good judgment, sir."
Wylde seemed not so eager to sweep their kisses under the rug. He lifted one brow. "So that is what it was?" he asked far too slowly, the sound of his voice doing odd things to the rhythm of Lissa's heartbeat. " 'A bit of business... a lapse of good judgment'?"
"Entirely," she insisted, even though her body claimed otherwise. "I suggest we endeavor to continue on with our original pact. In fact, we should do so immediately."
Before Wylde could gainsay her—or worse, announce that their pact was null and void due to her shocking lapse of ladylike behavior and his own daring—Lissa turned back to the table and quickly gathered up her sketchbooks and journal, then chose an assortment of fly-tying accoutrements to take with them to the water's edge.
That done, she quickly got to her feet, managed to maneuver her way
At the sound of her pleasure, however, Wylde suddenly stiffened. Abruptly, he ended the kiss, pulling his face back.
There came a moment of absolute silence and stillness.
Lissa forced her eyes open, seeing only the obsidian depths of Wylde's gaze. He studied her for a long breath of a moment.
"Have you no fear of me?" he finally asked, his voice husky, demanding. "I could, after all, be the darkness that would steal your light... could be a man of scarce morals... someone who could eat you alive."
Lissa felt herself blush crimson. How could she charge him with possessing no morals when she herself had allowed him to kiss her so intimately?
"You—you do not seem so terrible at the moment," she whispered honestly, "and I doubt you could be so... so heartless as to do the things you just said."
The moment the word "heartless" passed her lips, Lissa wished she could snatch it back.
Wylde's gaze instantly shuttered. His body stiffened. "Faith," he muttered. He reached up and firmly guided Lissa's hands away from where they had been anchored against his chest. "I suggest you take yourself home. Now. Before either of us says or does something more we might come to regret."
He might just as well have thrown a bucket of icy river water in her face.
Lissa felt her entire body burn with a hot blush, caused not only by her careless word choice, but also because of her wanton behavior thus far. She immediately dropped her hands to her lap and clasped them tight together. She felt Wylder's hard gaze on her.
"You must think the worst of me, sir," she whispered, feeling miserable inside, "but I—I should like you to know that wh-what I just allowed to transpire between the two of us is... is something I've never done in my life before today."
"No?" he asked.
"No," she said, feeling the shame burn deep, deep inside of her—though not nearly as deep as the effect of his kisses had gone.
Wylde touched one finger to her chin, forcing her to look up to him.
Lissa thoroughly expected another tongue lashing. It never came.
"For what it is worth, I never for one second thought otherwise," he said.
Lissa didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more miserable. Was his comment meant to soothe—or did it indicate that her return kisses had been lacking, even schoolgirlish?
She had no idea, and at the moment, since she'd so willingly allowed her good sense to fly with the wind, she did not dare to dissect the issue further. Too, she needed Lord Wylde to help her catch the trout that had eaten Lord Langford's locket and also needed his presence to help ward off her many suitors. It was best that she just get beyond this uncomfortable moment and never, ever, let herself lose control with him again.
"Yes, well," Lissa said, clearing her throat and pulling back from the touch of his finger against her chin, "I—I think it wise we both forget about that—that bit of business. We should just agree that I, er, rather, the both of us, suffered a momentary lapse of good judgment, sir."
Wylde seemed not so eager to sweep their kisses under the rug. He lifted one brow. "So that is what it was?" he asked far too slowly, the sound of his voice doing odd things to the rhythm of Lissa's heartbeat. " 'A bit of business... a lapse of good judgment'?"
"Entirely," she insisted, even though her body claimed otherwise. "I suggest we endeavor to continue on with our original pact. In fact, we should do so immediately."
Before Wylde could gainsay her—or worse, announce that their pact was null and void due to her shocking lapse of ladylike behavior and his own daring—Lissa turned back to the table and quickly gathered up her sketchbooks and journal, then chose an assortment of fly-tying accoutrements to take with them to the water's edge.
That done, she quickly got to her feet, managed to maneuver her way
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