“Why? Why me? I make every misstep and you walk true.”
Justin looked over his shoulder. She stood where he had left her, watching him, so heartrendingly beautiful in her yearning. “Who can explain the attraction between opposites?”
Her lower lip quivered, yet she stood tall and proud, undaunted by the unkind turns in her life. He wished he could shelter her from more pain and tragedy, but fate was cruel to him as well, mocking him for his youthful caution. He should have made clear how he felt years ago, and left no room for doubt or misunderstanding. All this time, he had thought she was never meant to be his, that she was not capable of deeper affection for him. Now he realized that he might have had his heart’s desire, if only he had disregarded his pride and opened himself to her.
“You should return to your room,” he murmured, looking away, resigned.
Silence filled the space between them. Only the sounds of the crackling fire and his rapid breathing offered relief.
“Justin…?”
He heard the soft plea in her voice and his back tensed.
She cleared her throat, causing his mouth to twitch. He knew that sound well. It was the sound of her gathering courage.
It was also the herald to mischief.
“I cannot be your wife or mistress,” she said in a low, husky voice that warmed his blood like strong wine. “But for tonight…I can be your l-lover.”
Justin spun to face her, flushing with avid lust and soul-deep longing. “Bloody hell.”
Her lovely face took on that obstinate cast he adored. The tapers around the room burnished her, their golden glow gleaming off her creamy skin and glossy curls. “I want…I want…”
“Christ,” he muttered, lacing his fingers at the back of his neck, “I know what you want. Do not give voice to it, or I may not have the strength to resist giving it to you.”
Sophie stared at the marquess displayed in the alluring pose, his throat bared to her, his shoulders so broad, his arms flexing powerfully. She licked her lips, and moved toward him. “Why resist?”
“You owe me nothing.”
“This is not about the past. This is about now, this moment, when I feel as if something in me is dying. I came to you tonight knowing this visit would lead to farewell, and yet now that we are agreed, I mourn. I haven’t the strength to sleep alone tonight, aware that in the morning you will leave and I will not see you again.”
His gaze narrowed. “You ask too much from me, Sophie. Better to wonder how it would be, than to know.”
“Is it? Would it not be better to live on real memories, than it would be to live on fantasy?” She rounded the wingback.
“And what of tomorrow?”
“We can worry then.”
He snorted and dropped his hands to his lean hips. “It is exactly that sort of thinking that lands you into trouble so often.”
Lowering her voice, she moved with what she prayed was a seductive sway to her hips. “This time, I hope it lands me into your bed.”
The groan that rumbled in his throat made her breasts swell further until they ached.
“I have a confession, my lord.”
He waited. Alert. A predator crouched for the pounce. Sophie shivered, then embraced the driving urge she had to touch him, hold him, clasp him deep within her. Here, in his lair, with its earthy colors and dark, masculine appeal.
Dressed only in his shirtsleeves and trousers, he revealed a glimpse of the man he was in his private hours. A man she could have had. She regretted the loss, although she would not alter her past decisions.
“You see, my lord,” she stepped up to him, coming to a halt a mere inch away, “your supreme self-possession is an irresistible lure. I want to crawl beneath it, see inside you, slip under your skin.”
Lifting her hand, she set it over his heart and felt its frantic tempo. She was in much the same state; short of breath with raging blood. “When we were younger, I would sometimes shock you deliberately just to see beneath your exterior.”
“You have always been under my skin,” he murmured, pulling her into his embrace, where she wanted to be. He seemed to consider her carefully, then he cupped her cheek, staring down at her with a starkly intense gaze. “Be certain, love. Once we walk down this path, there is no turning back.”
Sophie soaked in the warmth of his hard body and the rich, spicy scent that clung to him. Just days ago, the thought of him had set her insides aflutter. She felt the same now, but for an entirely different reason. It was no longer the anxiety of reacquainting oneself with someone who had once been dear. It was anticipation and pure, heady desire.
“I have always admired you,” she confessed, nuzzling into his palm. “My life has been in such disarray since the death of my parents, but you were so solid and immutable. Even as I provoked you, you strengthened and motivated me. Over the years, I often found myself imagining what you would do and considered that carefully before acting. I would not be the woman I am today had you not been in my life.”
Heat flared in his eyes, and he pressed warm, firm lips to her forehead. “I am glad you thought of me.”
“I never forgot you. And now…how easily you have turned my childhood awe into a woman’s fascination. I was told you had the appearance of a god amongst men, but the tales failed to convey how seductive you are.”
He snorted.
“Scoff all you like,” she said. “It’s true. Your voice makes me shiver and your presence inspires shockingly carnal musings.”
“Do you imagine my mouth on you?” he asked roughly. “Everywhere? Do you imagine being taken on your hands and knees? Or bound and restrained for my pleasure?”
Her exhale was shaky and she clung to him for balance. Dear God, he sounded so primitive, blatantly defying his civilized exterior and reputation.
“I will
Sophie wondered at the change in him, the sudden seriousness of his bearing. “I want to be with you. However you would have me.”
She turned her head and pressed her lips into his palm. The flutters in her stomach were riotous, causing her to quiver against him, but she was not afraid.
“My love,” he murmured, his gaze bright with fierce adoration.
Following her heart, she surged into him, her lips bumping awkwardly into his.
A low, delighted chuckle rumbled in his chest at her eagerness. Then he cupped her nape and fitted his mouth over hers. Perfectly.
Sophie stopped breathing, arrested by the kiss. Her lips tingled and her ears rang, her skin flushed and her toes curled. As the world spun behind her closed lids, she leaned heavily into him. He paused, his lips moving along her cheekbone to her ear.
“Breathe, love,” he admonished in a deepened tone that made her breasts swell.
His hand came up and squeezed the full, aching flesh. She inhaled sharply as he kneaded her, and then he took her mouth again, teasing her with gentle flicks of his tongue. Dizzy and unbearably aroused, she opened wider with a moan, shivering as he accepted the invitation with lush, deep licks.
The smell of his skin intoxicated her. She was beginning to love that unique combination of bergamot and tobacco. She already loved the feel of his body, so big and powerful. He dwarfed her, made her feel as if she was enveloped in warm, tangible safety. He was not pulling her under or drowning her. He was revealing the depth of his desire, and she was empowered by his admission.
With his hand on the curve of her hip and a low sound of encouragement, Justin urged her closer. Unresisting, Sophie slipped her fingers into the silky strands of his golden hair. The simple touch seemed to affect him strongly, made him shudder, and crush her slender body roughly to his hardness. Their mouths sealed together, so that each labored breath was shared.
