Chapter 7 #3
Without hesitation, he replied, “You.” To hell with propriety. He moved to kneel before her. “I’m drawn to you like no other.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The crease between her brows deepened, and he reached out to cup her face and run his thumb over her brow to soothe her worries. “That’s the second time you have accused me of being untruthful, and I can assure you, all who know me would confirm that I’m honest to a fault.”
The gentle pressure against his palm emboldened him to draw her head closer.
Before his mind could invoke any semblance of self-control, he pressed his lips to hers.
They were ever so soft, yet firm. He wanted more.
With the slightest pressure of his thumb against the ridge of her chin, Warren urged her to open for him.
His tongue circled her mouth, both satisfying and driving his curiosity to heights he was certain would drive any sane man into an asylum.
Olivia mirrored his caresses, sending waves of desire rolling through him.
When their tongues collided, any lingering strands of self-control he had were obliterated.
His hands slid down to her waist, and he tugged her close until they lay side-by-side on the floor.
Her soft curves molded to him as if she were designed specifically for him.
Egad. He’d lain with women before but never had the mere brush of a bosom or the light caress of a lady’s palm over his chest sent his heart racing, and especially not so when both of them were fully clothed.
Olivia would be the death of him, yet he found his fingers fumbling with the row of buttons at the back of her dress.
Olivia gasped, stealing a breath from him as the material of her gown slipped from her shoulders.
He shifted to trail a line of kisses down the side of her neck and didn’t stop at her collarbone; rather, he continued lower until he was able to tease her nipple with the tip of his tongue.
Blast her shift. Ignoring the worn-thin material, he suckled her breast until she was writhing in his arms.
Olivia was so responsive to his touch that when he managed to slip his hands beneath her skirts and urged her to part her legs slightly to allow his palms to graze over her soft thighs, he met no resistance.
It was only when his fingers slipped between her slick nether lips to circle the sensitive nub that Olivia’s body stiffened as she sighed, “Oh, my… Warren.”
Warren hastened his movements with the raspy sound of his name.
He wanted to return the pleasure she had given him, except his hand stilled at the rap of knuckles against the glass panes.
Olivia bolted to her feet and began to right her dress.
He need not be a genius to guess who the blasted culprit was who dared to interrupt their interlude.
Warren stood and completed the task of buttoning up her dress before turning her by the shoulders to face him. “I shall call upon you in the morn.”
Olivia shook her head. “I don’t believe that would be wise. That is why I came this eve.”
He stared directly at her. “We will discuss our future.”
“That is what I came to tell you. There is no future for us.”
Her words hit him as if he had taken a blow to the back of his knees. His hands tightened about her. “I disagree.” They stared at one another, neither of them speaking. Apparently neither of them was willing to speak first.
They both turned at the creak of the windowsill, and Olivia broke the tense silence. “Ian’s returned to escort me home.”
He released her before he balled his hands behind his back and strode over to the window where he snapped back the curtains to face the bloody footman.
Ire filled him as he searched the gardens; there was no sign of Ian.
“After what transpired this eve, I believe it is I who shall escort you back to the Camden residence. But first…” He turned around to find Olivia a mere foot away from him.
Surprise was quickly replaced with admiration for Olivia’s stealth ability.
“I want to reiterate my stance. I will convince you to marry me.”
“It’s simply not done, my lord.” Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, a stance he was quickly becoming fond of.
“Is that so? Then share with me your concerns, that is, if you have any, and if not, I shall prove to you that it can be done. I will marry you.”
“I see you have not changed and remain as stubborn as ever.” Olivia twirled about and marched toward the door.
His long strides ate up the distance until he walked alongside her. “Ah, so you have fond memories of me. I’d like for you to regale me with them.”
“Hmph.” Olivia stopped a foot away from the exit. “Very well, I shall grant you ten days. Ten days to convince me that you truly wish to marry me—a commoner, a woman with no lineage. nor wealth.”
“Deal.” He opened the door for her, and with her head held high, she walked ahead of him. Olivia would make a fine viscountess indeed. He had no qualms about it; he simply had to make her believe it.