Rose planted her feet. “I’m not finished talking to Lord Randal.”
Slender Rose was no match for Judith’s solid build. “Oh, yes, you are.” Undeterred, Judith tugged her through the door.
“You’re supposed to be my friend,” Rose protested loudly as she found herself dragged through the gardens.
“I am your friend.” Judith’s voice was getting fainter. “And as your friend, I insist on saving you from further embarrassing yourself.”
Their voices faded. Lily and Rand were left alone. The cool, shaded summerhouse seemed filled with an expectant silence.
Rand sneezed.
“I’m sorry,” they both said together.
He cracked a smile. “What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry you had to put up with my sister’s nonsense.”
“I’m sorry you had to overhear it.”
“I’m sorry I made you ill.”
His smile widened. “Ah, but I’m not sorry I kissed you.”
“I’m sorry you’re not kissing me now.”
“I’m sor—what?”
He blinked and took a step closer, and she rushed into his arms.
Whatever had been holding her back had suddenly vanished, like the moon on a cloudy night. Promise or no, Rose didn’t deserve Rand, not after she’d called him a mere professor. Not after she’d tried to bribe him and then trick him into marriage. If Lily had thought she was angry with her sister before, now she was really learning the depths of that emotion.
But she didn’t want to think about Rose now. Not when Rand was right here, holding her close, not when she finally felt free to touch him without feeling like she was betraying her sister.
She raised her hands to his face, feeling the slight roughness on his cheeks. She slid her fingers into his hair, the short strands soft and slippery as silk. He wore no fragrance but just smelled like Rand. Clean and warm. His scent made her head swim, more enticing than the costliest perfume.
She went on her toes to press her lips to his, but couldn’t quite reach. He was so tall, and she was too short.
“I never dreamed you would ever come to me for a kiss,” Rand said, sounding stunned. “Shall I meet you halfway?”
She laughed, the noise joyous to her own ears. Her heart felt light enough to escape her chest and float away. Rose had put Rand in a very awkward position, and Lily had overheard it, and somehow, that had changed everything.
When their lips finally met, the moment felt like a gift, an instant that would live in her heart forever. The kiss sang through her veins, and Lily knew for certain she was in love.
She could no longer deny that she wanted this man more than she’d wanted anything else, ever.
She parted her lips, inviting him in, sinking into the velvet warmth of his caress. What started out sweet and tender turned reckless and hungry, his mouth slanting over hers, his tongue sweeping inside, making her dizzy. A happiness burst in her—a happiness that made her feel as though she could touch the stars in the sky.
He kissed her eyes and her cheeks and her chin, the wild pulse in her throat, the skin revealed by the wide neckline of her silver-trimmed gown. Her hands sneaked beneath his midnight blue surcoat and around him, skimming his thin cambric shirt to feel the sleek muscles she’d seen yesterday. Her legs threatened to buckle under her, and she pressed herself closer, wanting more.
She’d felt something, a magical something, from the first time this man had touched her. Now, suddenly, the kisses weren’t enough. Her heart beat madly, and she ached for more of his touch. When he began easing down her bodice, instead of protesting, she arched, wordlessly offering herself to him like some forbidden fruit.
Rand knew the moment she gave herself over. He sensed desire singing through her body, heard need in the soft moan that escaped her lips. At that moment, he suspected she’d let him take her right there on the hard brick floor.
And at that moment, he also knew he couldn’t do this. He dropped his hands and stepped back.
They gazed at each other, their unsteady breathing the only sound in the small, round building.
He wanted her. He wanted her so much that he hurt. But he would wait. Because his need for her now went beyond the physical—even more than he wanted her body, he wanted her heart.
Love. Ford was right, this had to be love. It wasn’t a comfortable emotion, but it was there, and it wouldn’t be going away. Rand needed Lily—her sweetness, her faith in him, the way she made him feel—more than he needed to breathe. And he wanted, more than anything, to make her feel cherished in return.
He couldn’t remember ever putting anyone else first, before himself. It could only be love, no matter that he’d believed it would never happen for him.
Never say never, he thought with a rueful laugh.
Readjusting her gown, Lily looked flushed and beautiful—and disconcerted. “Why are you laughing? Why did you stop kissing me?”
He couldn’t explain it. The plan had been working. He and Lily were bound by a certain something—magnetism, Ford would call it—that he’d never felt with any other woman. He could win her, he knew, with the plan.
With seduction.
He was glad it had worked for Ford. But the plan, both times, had been conceived in a drunken haze. And the sobering reality was that no matter how much Rand’s body begged him otherwise, seduction was not the way he wanted to win Lily.
Strong as it might be, there was so much more between them than lust. When she agreed to be part of his life, he wanted that decision to be made with her head and her heart, not just her body.
He moved closer but kept some necessary distance by placing his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to play a song for me.”
“Pardon?” Unsure she’d heard right, Lily searched his intense gray eyes. Her senses were still spinning. Her knees were still weak.
“I want you to play
