Chapter Thirteen #3
He had no clue which of them deepened the kiss, but his whole body responded when her tongue tangled with his.
It hit him like lightning. He had never experienced such a swift and fevered desire to possess a woman in his life.
It was as if a wildfire suddenly blazed through him, out of control, and what was left of his restraint evaporated because his need for her was so complete.
He certainly lost all track of time as he lost himself in her.
Her fingers threaded through his hair to anchor him in place as she feasted on his mouth. Leo filled his hands with her bottom and she arched her hips against his, moaning against his lips in encouragement before her palms explored his chest over his waistcoat.
Then under it.
As her hands had gone wandering, his did too.
One burrowed beneath her skirt to find the soft skin of her outer thighs above her stocking tops while the other found her breast. Her moan was deliciously carnal as she pushed it into his palm; her leg hooking around his so that she could press her hips tighter against his erection.
He fisted his hands in her skirts and raised them while her fingers found the buttons on his falls.
“Leo!” His mother’s shout had them both jumping apart.
“Do something to stop your stupid dogs barking!” It took a moment for him to realize that both his dogs were barking—at him and the rumpled woman blinking at him in shock—and that his mother’s voice had come from a window above.
“It is the middle of the night, for pity’s sake! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
“Barkington! Snifferson!” Leo clicked his fingers. “Get back in the house now.” The spaniel was about to protest, so he clicked them again. “I said now!”
As the chastened dogs skulked back down the path, Miss Kendall’s lovely eyes were wide. “Do you think she saw us?”
He shook his head. “It’s too dark.” Then he pointed to his mother’s bedchamber window in time for them to witness the curtains snap back closed.
“Besides, she’d be halfway out here if she had.
” For some reason, awkwardness had descended like a shroud and he couldn’t understand why, when mere moments ago she had seemed as invested in and unraveled by their kiss as he had been and just as ready for more.
“Do I need to apologize again?” Please say no.
She shook her head, and his foolish heart soared. “It was just another odd moment.”
“We seem to keep having them.” Too frequently to be able to ignore them. Not that he wanted to now. However, any hope he had for them was swiftly killed stone dead by her next words.
“But … that one really has to be our last.”
“Why?” He took a step closer so that his fingers could graze her cheek, but she pulled back. “If you like me, Portia, and I clearly like you and we are both unattached but well matched, I see no earthly reason why we cannot—” He found himself staring at her raised hand.
“Because you are a duke.”
“And?” He shook his head, hoping to convey by his baffled smile that he honestly could not give two figs about the difference in their stations. “I am mostly just Leo actually. Especially here at home. The duke thing is a mantle I have to put on when dealing with certain responsibilities.”
“I cannot be with a duke.” She seemed appalled by the very idea and that hurt.
“What is so awful about being with a duke?” Until it occurred to him that she might think his intentions weren’t honorable.
That he was the sort who used and abused people, as so many of the aristocracy did.
“I am not looking for a mistress, Portia, if that is your concern. I am my father’s son, remember, and therefore a hopeless romantic at heart, so I could not be able to do anything other than take what seems to be blossoming between us as seriously as it deserves.
” It was the truth and for the first time in his life, and totally, unexpectedly out of the blue, he had the overwhelming feeling that he had found the one.
“I’ve honestly never met anyone like you before.
You call to my soul, Portia.” He touched his heart, suddenly so full of emotion that he had to let some of it out.
“In a way that transcends the obvious desire I have for you and…” Her lovely eyes widened in panic and she began to shake her head so violently that it made him pause his heartfelt declaration.
“Please do not say any more, your grace, I beg of you.”
“I think, after what we just shared, you should call me Leo.” Perhaps then she would stop thinking of all the duke nonsense as a barrier? “Just Leo.”
He took another step forward and she took a decisive step back. Not in disgust, which would have been bad enough when he had just bared his heart, but in fear. But fear of what?
Him?
Them?
“For both of our sakes, let us pretend that this”—she flapped her hand in the vicinity of their mouths—“did not happen either and never, ever speak of it again, your grace.”
“What if I can’t?” Now that he had let those feelings out, he didn’t want to put them back in. “What if I want you too much to pretend that I don’t anymore? What if we were meant to be, Portia? What if—”
She shook her head. “Trust me, your grace. Nothing good ever comes of playing with fire and I truly don’t want you to get burned.”
Then, before he could get to the bottom of that cryptic comment, she picked up her skirts and dashed after the dogs back into the house.
Almost as if her life depended on it.