“I missed you so much.” Her hands were stroking the sides of his face while she frantically pressed kisses along his chin and jaw.
He climbed onto the bed and lowered some of his weight atop her. Excited, she panted, laboring to catch her breath. No need to hurry. Nick determined to take his time with her. They would have a lifetime together.
The scent of apples and cinnamon teased his nostrils as he trailed his mouth down her chin to the delicate spot where her neck curved into her shoulder. “My Eve.” He lowered her bodice and captured one perfect bud between his lips.
“Nicholas,” she whispered, arching her back.
“So perfect, Eve. So beautiful.”
She cried out when he clamped on and drew her deeper into his mouth.
Her knees parted, and she cradled him with her legs. Home. He was home at last.
The soft flesh of her thighs beckoned him to seek the pleasures between them and he moved his hips, rubbing himself against her.
He ached to experience the warm wet heat that beckoned. Denying himself might prove more than a little painful.
She whimpered when he claimed her other breast. “I need you, oh, Nicholas.”
Locking his gaze with hers, he slowly crawled backward and then, inch by revealing inch, pushed her gown up her legs.
Eyes overflowing with passion, she stared at him with uninhibited want, with unbridled need.
Did she love him?
What the hell was wrong with him? He loved her. If he made love to her right now, neither of them would have a choice.
And yet he wanted her love. He wanted all of her.
“Trust me, Eve?” The question surprised even him.
She blinked and tilted her head as his words penetrated her fog of desire. “I think so.”
He swallowed hard. She wasn’t ready for this. But if he took her tonight, he would never let her go.
He owned her body but was less certain of her heart.
And yet her knees trembled beneath his hands.
He lifted her gown up and past her hips and then lowered his mouth to the taut skin low on her belly. He would love her this way for now.
“Wider.” Her thighs opened for him. Nick inhaled her scent as he trailed his mouth lower. Intoxicating. So damn intoxicating. Using his tongue, he stroked just above her seam even as a wicked idea formed in his mind.
He reached over and scooped his fingers into the pastry she’d cooked for him.
“What are you—?”
He spread the sweet filling along the inside of her thigh. Sweet heaven. All he needed now was to sip brandy from her lips.
She moaned when he lapped at the sticky pastry. Loving her excitement, he did the same with the delicate skin inside her other thigh. He loved her gasps of satisfaction even more than her laughter.
By the time he returned to her center, she was close to completion. He pinned her hips to the bed and buried his face between her legs.
Nicholas ushered Eve down the stairs, out the back door, and insisted on escorting her across the square. She was glad for his arm as her legs felt decidedly weak.
“I’m sticky,” she murmured into her coat, feeling incredibly naughty. She’d never be able to look at a pie again without remembering what he’d done.
“Apple pie may not have been my favorite dessert before, but it certainly is now.”
She glanced over and could barely make out his expression in the darkness. It was tender, teasing—affectionate.
She’d felt horrible for leaving him standing in front of the inn earlier that afternoon. This time, it had been she who had panicked.
She’d not corrected Noelle’s assumption that he was merely escorting her as a courtesy to his friend. As long as her sisters and her aunt didn’t know about him, it wasn’t quite real. And if it wasn’t real, it couldn’t hurt her. None of which made rational sense.
But she had hurt him.
Was it possible that he’d suffered as much as she had in the months they’d been apart?
After allowing Mr. Clark to rebandage the cut on her hand, she’d taken tea with her aunt and sisters but been unable to shake a strong regret.
Which then quickly transformed into an urgent need.
To apologize—to explain.
Had she intended to make love with him when she took over the pie? She’d certainly been willing when he’d carried her to his bed.
He’d asked her if she trusted him, and she’d struggled to give him an answer. Was that why he’d not made love to her, in truth? Oh, but how could she trust him when she had no idea when he was leaving? And why had she been willing to make love to him without any promises?
Because you never stopped loving him, her heart whispered.
Starlight sparkled on crystals of snow. “The sky is clear tonight,” she ventured. “Do you think the roads will be clear tomorrow?”
He pulled her close. “The condition of the roads won’t dictate the length of my stay in Maybridge Falls, Eve.” There was no hesitancy at all in his response.
“What will dictate it then?” They’d arrived at the front walk leading up to her aunt’s home and both of them stopped.
Nick raised her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on the back of each. “You.”
Eve’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”
“Because we deserve the chance that was stolen from us before.” His voice sounded gruff.
Eve nodded and then raised herself to her toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Cool. Familiar. Wonderful.
“We do, don’t we?” But could she ever trust in happiness again? Was that even possible? “Will you join me and my sisters and my aunt for dinner tomorrow evening?”
Nicholas rubbed his thumb along her lower lip. “I’d be honored.”
She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to break this spell.
An owl howled in the distance and she jumped.
“Goodnight, Nicholas.” She stepped backward.
“Goodnight, Eve.”
Chapter 8
