Chapter 15 #3
“You are not a woman to allow such a thing to slip away, are you, Miss Samantha Pengarden?”
He didn’t wait for her answer but pulled her closer; every inch of their bodies touching from breasts pushed against his solid, muscular chest to their knees, her skirts the only thing preventing his warmth from touching her in places she hadn’t known were frozen.
Sam tilted her chin upwards slightly to look into his eyes, her response at the ready.
She expected to see pity and sympathy, but his gaze held neither.
Desire. Not lust, but affection mixed with adoration.
Eli’s lips parted before settling against hers.
She ached with the need to touch him, explore every curve of his body as his hands did the same.
It was as if Eli’s kiss—his kiss alone—was the only thing that could restore life to her, make her believe forgiveness was possible.
That healing from her deep wounds was not only possible but also immediately attainable.
This kiss was far different than the one they’d shared—in this very spot—the night before. Sam moved her hands up and down his back, pulling Eli closer still. Every part of her screamed if he let her go, if he pulled away, it would mean the end for Sam. He was the only reason she breathed.
He set a demanding tempo, first arduous as if he too would cease to be if their lips parted, but then the pace lessened as the kiss turned from need to a slow, building craving. A longing with no end—a yearning that no amount of passion could quench.
A warmth spread through her, settling between her thighs as her desire built. Her body knew what she needed, even though Sam did not.
Eli pushed his fingers into her hair, pins falling to the floor when her long tresses fell about her shoulders.
A moan escaped her as his lips left hers, trailing a fiery path down to her chin and pressing light kisses down her neck—and lower still.
Sam tilted her head back to allow him greater access to what he sought.
His lips pecked a soft path along her collarbone and dipped to the swell of her breasts, just above her gown’s low neckline.
Sam explored his backside, moving her hands lower and lower, and his mouth did the same to her front.
Ecstasy.
“Samantha,” he sighed. His fingers untangling from her hair as they grazed the curve of her neck to join his mouth at her heaving bosom. “You are exquisite. Every inch of you is pure perfection.”
The beat of her heart thumped through her entire body as her legs quivered.
His back tensed, and he pulled back ever so slightly.
Sam wasn’t ready for the sensations coursing through her to end; nor was she prepared to withdraw her hands from their current exploration of his round arse.
However, it appeared Eli was not ready for that either. He brought his lips back to hers, his tongue darting across her lower lip.
The notion of living in this moment for all eternity would be the grandest fate Sam could wish for herself. With his body against hers, his lips possessing hers, and his hands caressing her from neck to waist…if there were a heaven, this would be it.
She would give herself completely—and freely—to Elijah and the sensations he was causing within her. All he need do is ask, and she would give all to him.
Sam had always imagined herself to be half a person, Jude the other.
Never whole without her twin.
But it was not true. Jude was not the missing part she needed to be complete.
She needed this…this desire, this passion, this hunger to never cease, for she would perish without it.
“Pardon, I did not mean—“ A familiar lyrical voice started, immediately cutting off. “Sam? Lord Ridgefeld? What are you…I should… What is the meaning of…” Jude’s voice rose higher with each word.
Elijah’s back flexed, and Sam’s hands fell from his backside as they both took a step back—away from each other.
Glancing over Eli’s shoulder, Sam noted the shock on her sister’s face, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide as saucers.
Part of Sam wanted to give her sister a smug grin, show her that even though she was abandoning her twin, Sam would fare well without her.
But more importantly, she longed to share how much she’d come to adore Lord Ridgefeld with the only other person who’d understand.
“It is not what it appears, Jude.” Her satisfied grin won. “I was upset, and Lord Ridgefeld found me in tears. He was only comforting me…”
Sam kept her stare locked on Jude’s, afraid to glance at Eli, his back still to her twin.
It was exactly as it appeared, and would have progressed further if they hadn’t been interrupted.
Eli turned, taking a small step closer to Sam. “Miss Judith. I can offer no explanation for what you have witnessed. I—“
Jude held up her hand, silencing Eli. “It is none of my concern what took place in this room. I am here to collect my sister. I must speak with her regarding,” Jude paused as if determining the correct thing to say in a situation such as they’d found themselves, “a delicate family matter.”
“He knows of Lord Beauchamp,” Sam confessed. “Lord Ridgefeld, thank you for lending me a shoulder to cry on. It was very noble of you. Do give my sincere apologies to your valet if I have ruined your coat.”
She hurried to Jude’s side, noticing for the first time how affected her sister was by their father’s appearance.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her face flushed, and her hands clutched so tightly, her knuckles turned white—possibly to halt their shaking.
Though, some of her upset was surely caused by catching her twin in a most indecent embrace with a man.
The scandalous nature of their situation kept Sam from meeting Elijah’s gaze. She knew his burned a hole in her—she could feel it—and she could not lift her eyes from his knees.
Sparingly, Elijah cleared his throat and shoved is hands deep into his pockets. “Ladies,” he said. “I will allow you privacy and return to the other guests.”
He slipped past them and out the door before Sam could muster the courage to meet his eyes.
They stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Jude turned to depart.
“Jude, let me explain—“ There was not much for her to say unless she confessed everything.
To do that, Sam would need to understand her connection to Elijah.
Was he truly only a distraction to keep boredom at bay while she was in Derbyshire, or had their relationship turned to something far beyond friendship?
“There is no need. Lord Ridgefeld is a very handsome man. He comes from a decent, respectable family,” Jude mumbled, matter-of-factly. “You could have set your sights on a far less desirable gentleman. You will want to fix your hair and straighten your gown before we meet with Marce.”
Jude stepped to the side, allowing Sam to flee for the safety of her room.