Chapter 17 #3
She didn’t like how her feelings toward him were undergoing a rapid change. When he was just humoring his brother, playing tricks on all his staff and friends, she could despise him for the easy way he lied. And she hated liars.
But now that she knew he had deeper reasons for what he did—honorable reasons—her heart was melting, along with her resistance.
She needed to know the truth, and if her femininity would help, then she’d follow Richard’s lead and do what she had to.
She approached where he sat and stood between his legs, her skirts touching him.
He suspiciously looked up at her, and she did what she’d wanted to do for so long.
Putting her hands on his face, she looked into his eyes.
He flinched but didn’t draw away. His skin was warm, slightly damp, with the faintest rasp of whiskers along one side of his jaw where his new valet had missed a spot when shaving this morning.
Then he put his hands on her waist and pulled her even closer, so that her breasts were just below his face. She inhaled swiftly, but didn’t struggle.
“Is this what you want?” he asked.
“I want the truth, Richard. You must tell me.”
She looked into his eyes and willed the words to come out, but all he did was reach up and remove her spectacles, laying them behind him on the table. She found that she was trapped in his gaze, in the way he studied her face like a man who might never see again.
He kept her tight against him, even as he began to pull the pins from her hair. She should protest, she should pull away, but she stayed there, his arm around her, his thighs on each side of her.
Locks of her hair started cascading down around her shoulders, even falling forward to touch his cheek where her head was above him.
He caught that curl between his fingers, smelling it with his eyes closed, then looked at her knowingly while he wrapped the hair about his finger, pulling her face closer and closer.
“Richard, tell me,” she said, her mouth almost against his, their very breath mingling.
“I like how you say my name.”
He tugged once more, and their lips met.
The kiss was passionate and desperate and full of a temptation she’d never felt before meeting him.
Inside her head a war began, with part of her saying, Who would ever know?
and the other part insisting that she’d be going against everything she’d been taught to believe in.
But his mouth lured her; his tongue seduced her and made her forget everything but the two of them alone in the woods.
Where a villain had struck Richard down.
She broke the kiss. “The man who hit you could still be here.”
“I doubt it.” He cupped one side of her face, and his thumb brushed her lips. “You taste…like the sweetest candy.”
His touch, his words, made her knees suddenly weak. She was leaning heavily against him, and with one simple move, he swung her off her feet and across his lap. Now he was above her, cradling her.
“Richard, we can’t do this. Stephen will be looking for me—for us. He’s the one who knew you were missing. He was waiting to box with you.”
He frowned and glanced at the open doorway. “You’re right. When you drape yourself across me, it’s difficult to think.”
Aghast, she cried, “Drape myself—”
“Ah, Meriel, you are so easy to tease. Up you go.”
He set her on her feet, then stood up beside her. He swayed once, and she caught his waist.
“No, no, I can’t kiss you again,” he said with a grin.
She ignored his teasing. “Will you be able to walk?”
“With you at my side, of course I can.”
She put her hands in her hair, realizing her state. She surely looked like a woman who’d been well kissed by a man. How was she going to repair the damage?
Smiling Richard held up his open palm and showed her all the pins. “You didn’t think I threw them on the floor, did you?”
“Your brother probably would have.”
He arched a brow. “As you’ve already pointed out, I am not my brother.”
And that was the frightening part. He was so much more appealing to her as a man rather than the duke. She turned her back on him and put up her hair as best she could. But it would be obvious to any woman that she’d done it herself, without the aid of a mirror.
Walking back through the woods, Richard leaned on her so much that she feared he would not make it. She had to keep one hand on his chest, just in case he pitched forward.
The closer they got to the open parkland, the more the rain showers dampened them. Just before they came into view of the anyone on the grounds, Richard stepped away from her.
“Are you certain you can walk all the rest of the way alone?” she asked.
“I was able to conserve my strength with your help. I’ll be fine.” He cocked his head as he looked at her. “Your spectacles are rain-soaked and almost falling off your nose. Are you certain you can see like that?”
She found herself blushing. “I’ll be fine.”
He gave a slow grin. “You don’t need them, do you?”
“Of course I do.” That wasn’t a lie. She’d needed to protect herself from employers like the duke—or his brother.
He shook his head. “It seems to me I’m not the only one wearing a disguise.”