looking anguished. “Oh, God,” he said, his hands clutching her upper arms convulsively. “I’m done for now.” And then he brought his mouth against her jaw, her neck, and Elsie learned the bliss of a man’s rough beard against a woman’s delicate skin. She let out sounds she wasn’t even aware she was capable of, and felt sensations she didn’t know existed. It was insane, but she wanted him to touch her—everywhere, anywhere. He brought his mouth against hers again, and placed one hand gently on her chin, his thumb on her lower lip. Pulling, he opened her mouth and he kissed her, touching his tongue against hers, creating so much heat between her legs, she thought she might explode. She not only welcomed him, she moved her own tongue against his, exploring the wonderful sensations such a carnal action created. A low sound came from deep within him as they deepened the kiss, as her hands moved to the back of his head and kneaded through his thick hair.
“Oh, God, Elsie,” he said, moving his hands along her sides, with nothing to stop the heat of him except two thin layers of cotton.
“Please,” she whispered, not even knowing why, only knowing that her body ached for him to touch her. She felt his hand on one breast, a thumb moving across a taut nipple, and couldn’t stop the sound of pure pleasure that came from her parted lips. Nothing could have prepared her for the intense sensations his touch invoked. His breathing was harsh as he cupped her breast, as he dipped his head and kissed her aching nipple through the layers of her nightclothes. He let out a strange sound, almost a moan of pain, as he stopped and laid his head against her breast.
Then he exploded off the bench, leaving her nearly toppling over on to the floor without his support. He strode over to the mural and picked up his brush, and stood there staring blindly at the painting. She stayed on the bench, her hands bracing herself, her breath hard, her eyes glazed with desire, her body aching for more. She finally knew what it was like to feel a man’s touch, to ache for more.
“Oh,” she said, small and nearly silent. She understood, now she finally comprehended what he’d been trying to say, why a kiss could be the cruelest of all fates. It had been a mistake, a terrible one. For now Elsie knew passion, and knew that she would likely never have it in her married life. She never should have kissed this beautiful man. He had warned her, practically begged her to leave him alone. He’d been right, right, right.
For Elsie had a terrible feeling she was falling in love with him, with this silent man whom she could never have.
Chapter 6
“What is wrong with you, niece?” Aunt Diane asked. “You’ve done nothing but mope around ever since we arrived.”
Elsie stared out at the expansive lawn where many of the Wrights’ guests were gathered for a game of croquet, a game Elsie had just learned to play and had previously found to be rather delightful. But Lord Hathwaite was playing and she simply couldn’t bring herself to join him.
This was the extent of their conversation in the first two days Elsie had been at the house party.
“So good to see you, Lord Hathwaite.”
“Yes. And good to see you.”
“We received your father’s missive about the wedding.” This said simply to garner some reaction.
“Indeed.”
She wanted to bash him over the head with his mallet just to see if he’d react to that. Indeed.
“Is this to be my future, Aunt? Do you see anyone laughing or enjoying life?” Of course, at that very moment, one of the female guests let out a rather unseemly laugh, which only made Elsie scowl more.
“Your father told me about the wedding date,” her aunt said knowingly.
Elsie stared mulishly at Lord Hathwaite, knowing that her future was set in stone before her and also knowing there was nothing she could do about it. At least her overbearing future father-in-law was not at the party. She was terrified
“Oh, God, Elsie,” he said, moving his hands along her sides, with nothing to stop the heat of him except two thin layers of cotton.
“Please,” she whispered, not even knowing why, only knowing that her body ached for him to touch her. She felt his hand on one breast, a thumb moving across a taut nipple, and couldn’t stop the sound of pure pleasure that came from her parted lips. Nothing could have prepared her for the intense sensations his touch invoked. His breathing was harsh as he cupped her breast, as he dipped his head and kissed her aching nipple through the layers of her nightclothes. He let out a strange sound, almost a moan of pain, as he stopped and laid his head against her breast.
Then he exploded off the bench, leaving her nearly toppling over on to the floor without his support. He strode over to the mural and picked up his brush, and stood there staring blindly at the painting. She stayed on the bench, her hands bracing herself, her breath hard, her eyes glazed with desire, her body aching for more. She finally knew what it was like to feel a man’s touch, to ache for more.
“Oh,” she said, small and nearly silent. She understood, now she finally comprehended what he’d been trying to say, why a kiss could be the cruelest of all fates. It had been a mistake, a terrible one. For now Elsie knew passion, and knew that she would likely never have it in her married life. She never should have kissed this beautiful man. He had warned her, practically begged her to leave him alone. He’d been right, right, right.
For Elsie had a terrible feeling she was falling in love with him, with this silent man whom she could never have.
Chapter 6
“What is wrong with you, niece?” Aunt Diane asked. “You’ve done nothing but mope around ever since we arrived.”
Elsie stared out at the expansive lawn where many of the Wrights’ guests were gathered for a game of croquet, a game Elsie had just learned to play and had previously found to be rather delightful. But Lord Hathwaite was playing and she simply couldn’t bring herself to join him.
This was the extent of their conversation in the first two days Elsie had been at the house party.
“So good to see you, Lord Hathwaite.”
“Yes. And good to see you.”
“We received your father’s missive about the wedding.” This said simply to garner some reaction.
“Indeed.”
She wanted to bash him over the head with his mallet just to see if he’d react to that. Indeed.
“Is this to be my future, Aunt? Do you see anyone laughing or enjoying life?” Of course, at that very moment, one of the female guests let out a rather unseemly laugh, which only made Elsie scowl more.
“Your father told me about the wedding date,” her aunt said knowingly.
Elsie stared mulishly at Lord Hathwaite, knowing that her future was set in stone before her and also knowing there was nothing she could do about it. At least her overbearing future father-in-law was not at the party. She was terrified
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