With This Kiss: Part Two by Eloisa James

soft bottom had ignited an unruly and impolite passion in his loins. “I did not think you were Lily.”
    “But when you entered the room, you expected Lily.”
    “I was confused by your perfume.”
    “I’m not wearing perfume.” He realized that now, of course. She smelled like lemon verbena and tears.
    It was confession time.
    “Are you in love with McIngle?” he asked instead.
    She leaned her head against his chest. “If you’re hoping that he might still marry me, you are wrong.”
    “You insult me. I would never allow another man to marry a woman whom I…” Loved? “Deflowered,” he finished.
    Grace sighed. “I apologize; I didn’t mean that as it sounded. I was not in love with John. He deserved more from his wife, so I broke off our betrothal. It is not my feelings which will prevent this marriage, but yours. For—for Lily.”
    She hesitated, then repeated: “I made love to you, but you made love to Lily.”
    “I made love to you ,” he said, longing to rip off the bandage and see her eyes. He dropped another kiss into her soft hair instead.
    “What?”
    “I thought I was dreaming of making love to you. But it was really happening.” He grasped at the memory and it slid away from him, leaving tendrils of desire behind.
    “You were?” she repeated, her tone dubious.
    “Yes.”

 
    Ten
    G race was so bewildered that she didn’t know what to think. She had fallen into utter despair, thinking that Colin made love to her while believing she was Lily. She was afraid to accept what he said now. In fact, she wasn’t sure she did believe it.
    Colin had such a strong sense of honor that if he learned he had deflowered a virgin, he would say whatever he had to in order to marry her.
    She tipped back her head and looked at his face. It was a strong, almost harsh face that looked as if it had been carved by sea winds.
    The truth was that they probably meant different things by “making love.” If she could see his eyes, she would know for sure. She had learned to read his eyes.
    “It’s very sweet of you to say so,” she said.
    “Not particularly.” He was running his hands up her arms, caressing her with a slow stroke that made her feel like a cat. She shook off the feeling.
    “Colin, you have no love for me, other than sisterly affection. You never…” She paused trying to figure out how to put it. “You looked at Lily in a way that you had never looked at me. You danced with her. You wrote Lily a long letter. You hardly wrote me back, ever.” The memory made her heart wince, and with a quick motion she pushed free and leapt to her feet.
    “Grace!” He roared it, stretching out his hands like a great wounded beast.
    “I don’t want dishonesty between us,” she said, holding her ground, looking down at him. He was too strong and bold to need pity, this wounded lion of hers. He would be out of the bandages and glaring fearlessly at life again in no time.
    His arms fell. “Neither do I.”
    “Well, then. I am the kind of person who greatly dislikes confusion,” she said, sitting down in a chair opposite him.
    He nodded.
    There was a bleak look in his face that she hated to see, but she forced herself to continue. “You felt a sort of desire for Lily that you have never felt for me, and I recognize that. All the world knows that she is exquisite. You must have been in love with her, given the length of the letter you wrote her.”
    He opened his mouth, but she said, fiercely, “No. Let me finish.” Then she swallowed hard and said, “I have always loved you, as I’m sure you surmised from all those foolish letters I sent you. So marrying you… marrying you is everything I dreamed of since I was a girl. But I will not be party to the pretense that you feel the same. I couldn’t bear that.”
    “Grace—”
    “You can say whatever you wish,” she said, interrupting. “But we both know the truth: your actions speak for themselves. If you had loved me, you would have searched me