Chapter 9 #2
A warning voice sounded in her head. She should not be here.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding against hers, teaching her how, showing her the way to derive the most pleasure from the place their mouths met.
Oh, she should not want this so badly. Yet Izzy pressed closer, aware she was behaving like a woman who knew no better, who did not know the dangers of dallying with men outside of the marriage bed, when she knew all too well.
She had tried to help those poor girls who found themselves with a babe in their belly and no man to stand beside them when they came to the church and threw themselves upon her father’s mercy.
But she would not be so reckless, she assured herself, she would stop long before that.
Only not yet, just another moment, another kiss…
. His hand, which had been a warm weight upon her waist, slid up over the silken fabric of her gown and Izzy shivered, perfectly aware of the path it would take.
Lord, but this was dangerous. Foolish girl.
She did not care. As his large hand cupped her breast she sighed, pressing into his palm, revelling in the delicious sensations that set her every nerve afire, that made her insides quiver with excitement, a lush liquid heat spreading from her core to every part of her body.
Boreas paused, lifting his mouth from hers and Izzy looked up, dazed and stupid, drugged upon the pleasure he had brought her, desperate for more. She blinked, noting how dark his eyes were, the slight flush that crested his cheekbones.
Not just me, she thought, giddy with relief that he was not unaffected. She smiled up at him, but the teasing light died in his eyes. His fingers flexed, holding her tighter for a moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Izzy watched him, aware of the sudden shift in his mood and not understanding it.
“There,” he said, his voice sounding oddly hoarse as he moved away.
Izzy righted herself, scrambling to sit up before she rolled off the mattress as he hurriedly let her go.
She stared at him, startled back to reality, though her body was still lingering in the delicious heat of the dream he had woven around her.
“There?” she repeated, too addled to understand what he meant.
“You’ve had your kiss.”
He didn’t look at her. Trying to rearrange the pillows behind him, he cursed under his breath, stiffening as he hurt himself, no doubt pulling the stitches.
“Hold still! Let me.” Izzy put her embarrassment at being so summarily finished with to one side and got to her knees, leaning over him as she placed the cushions behind him more comfortably.
Belatedly, she realised the position gave him a view directly down her cleavage.
His hands came to her waist and Izzy stilled, excitement thrumming beneath her skin as she felt his warm breath fluttering against the neckline of her gown.
She glanced down, her breath catching as she saw the plump swell of her breasts, temptingly level with his mouth.
He pulled her closer, and she went, closing her eyes as his hands moved up, cupping her breasts and squeezing them.
His mouth touched her skin, his tongue gliding over the delicate mound of one breast, and a soft sound of pleasure escaped her.
He cursed, low and obscene, his tongue dipping into the valley between her breasts, his hands squeezing harder, and then he pushed her roughly away.
Izzy stared at him, bewildered as she tumbled back onto the pillow.
His jaw was set, hard as granite, something like fury blazing in his eyes. “Go.” He reached for her glasses and held them out to her.
“What? I-I don’t understand.”
“Understand this, Miss Honey. You are lucky I’m injured, for if you let me carry on like that I’d have your skirts about your neck with my usual efficiency.”
Izzy stiffened, hurt and indignation rioting through her.
Why was he so angry, and what right did he have to speak to her so, to make her feel as if she were wrong for having wanted him?
She snatched her glasses back, putting them back on.
“Indeed, you would not. I am not so lost to good sense as all that.”
He snorted. “You seemed pretty lost to me. Christ above, I was too. Dallying with a vicar’s daughter, of all things. How very original, and I try so hard to be unique.”
The words were cruel, purposely so, she thought, and they struck her to the quick. For a moment she could only stare at him as she realised he must have been toying with her this whole time. Amusing himself.
Lord, Izzy, what a silly child he must think you.
Humiliation burned, searing away the pain of hurt and rejection, for now, at least.
“I apologise. I did not realise I was boring you,” she said, getting to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster, only wanting to get away from him before she embarrassed herself further by crying.
She rearranged her bodice, tugging it back into place, aware it showed an indecent amount of flesh as shame swept over her.
“Oh, you weren’t boring, sweetheart,” he said with a short laugh.
Izzy stomach dropped at his insinuating tone, and she thought she could hate him in that moment. She had thought they’d come to trust each other, but it seemed that had been entirely one sided. Izzy glared at him, but he looked away from her, his arms folded over his chest. Why was he doing this?
“This is my repayment for caring for you, then, for saving your life? You promised a kiss, but you did not mention that you would ensure I felt cheapened for having accepted it?”
She saw the words strike him, saw the flash of guilt in his eyes, though he hid it quickly.
“I didn’t force you to accept. I just gave you what you wanted,” he replied coldly.
The bastard. Fine. If he wanted to be a brute, let him. He was nothing to her. He’d be gone in the morning, and she could forget what a fool she had been. No one would ever know.
“I am glad to know I afforded you some amusement, at least. If you’ll excuse me. I’ll not take up anymore of your time. Goodnight.” She turned away, her head held high.
“Wait.”
Izzy’s heart leapt, and she looked back at him, hope that he would apologise for his incomprehensible change of demeanour making her stupid.
“I must leave in the morning. I’ll need your help to get out of the house unseen, and then, if you’d take a message to one of my men and get him to meet me on the road through Winsham Woods? You know Eddie, the blacksmith?” At her nod, he continued. “I’d be obliged to you.”
The words were oddly toneless, curt and businesslike, a world away from the warmth he’d shown her, from the teasing way he’d enticed her into his embrace. For a brief moment she had felt special in his arms, and now….
Well, fine. If that was how he wanted it.
“Very well.”
“Show them this.”
He tugged a ring from his little finger and tossed it to her. Izzy caught it automatically. It was more elegant than the other, flashier rings he wore. The gemstone looked like a diamond, though she doubted it was as precious as that.
“It’ll prove you speak true, and you can keep the ring. A memento.” There was a derisive curl to his mouth now. The mouth that had kissed her so sweetly.
A snide retort about paying for her services rose to Izzy’s lips but she could not speak it. Her heart hurt too much to be as spiteful as he was. Silence spun out between them, unravelling everything Izzy had believed about him.
“Thank you… for everything.” There was something like regret in his voice, but she was too angry to think he meant it.
She nodded coolly and turned away, determined not to cry in front of him, then made her way down the stairs as fast as she dared and closed the door quietly behind her.