CHAPTER 25 #2
“Of course not. I know you are not ready to give me another chance. But I can wait. I will wait an eternity for you.”
“No! I don’t want you to wait for me. Don’t you see what a terrible burden it places on my shoulders? I don’t want to raise false hopes when I know nothing can come of it.”
“You are not raising false hopes. But you can’t control the way I feel. Not even I can.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Michael.”
“What about you, Josie? Don’t you hurt as well?
” He moved closer still, so close the hem of her skirt covered the tips of his boots.
And still she did not retreat. Maybe she couldn’t.
The ripple of her throat as she swallowed was the only movement she made.
She was standing so still, her gaze locked with his.
“I want to kiss you.” The simple statement came out as a warning, or maybe a plea. He meant it as both. He was desperate for her but didn’t want to take anything she wasn’t ready to give.
Her lips parted, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. It was a subtle invitation, but one he couldn’t resist. Slowly, to give her time to stop him if she so wished, he lowered his head, pausing a whisper away from her lips. Their breaths intermingled for two heartbeats.
He wasn’t sure if she closed the last space that separated their mouths or if he did.
But then their lips were melding, the contact so right, so necessary, he wondered how he survived without it for twelve long years.
How could he ever live without it again if he didn’t manage to keep her this time?
He deepened the kiss, reaching for more of her taste, more of the silky warmth of her mouth. She responded in kind; her hands fluttered against his chest like trapped birds, but she leaned into him.
Her flavor, familiar and dear, the tiny hitches in her breath when his tongue would sweep out and touch hers.
Her bottom lip, plump and soft, begged him to bite and then soothe it with his tongue.
The smoothness of her cheeks under his palms, the silkiness of her hair teasing his fingertips.
He had never forgotten how silky her hair was. How sweet her lips.
Reality faded. Nothing existed beyond this place, here, them, their mouths joining and their souls melding.
The small mewling sound she made spurred him on.
He remembered that sound. It was etched in his heart.
It was a sound of pleasure and need. Of a want so deep it could not be expressed with words.
It echoed in him. But his would likely emerge as a roar that would possibly scare her.
So he leashed it, lest it consume them both.
His lips were reluctant to abandon the sweet haven of her mouth, but the smoothness of her skin called to him.
Making him nostalgic for a hint of her fragrance, that heavenly blend of violets and secrets.
Charting a course over her downy cheek, he skated his mouth down the elegant column of her neck.
Her head tilted to the side, opening herself to him, presenting her most vulnerable part to the ravages of his mouth.
The tip of his tongue darted out to paint a swirl right under her ear, and he gloated in the soft sigh that rewarded his exploration.
Inhaling deep, he filled his lungs with her fragrance, breathing her in.
Letting her essence fill all the empty places inside him.
Her hands tightened on the edges of his waistcoat and she pushed.
For an agonized moment, he thought she was pushing him away, and every fiber of his body tensed in protest. Not yet.
Just a bit more. He hadn’t had enough. The gaping chasm of his long suppressed need had not been satisfied yet.
But he suspected an entire lifetime would not be enough to satisfy it.
Girding himself, he stepped back, only for her to follow him, one step, two.
The back of his legs hit the edge of the bench set between the folly’s columns.
The place where they had rendezvoused so long ago.
The place where their story had begun. He sat, and to his infinite delight, she came with him.
Positioning herself between his widespread legs.
She now claimed his mouth, taking charge of the kiss, and devoured him with a need that matched his own.
His heart exulted and soared, his barely contained need overflowed like a river under a sudden downpour.
The torrent raged, razing all reason in its path.
Fed by the ravaging kiss and the feel of her hand on his chest, her arm curled around his neck, her fingers raking into his hair and her nails scratching his scalp.
His body took on a life of its own, guided purely by instinct and feeling.
He squeezed her waist, molded her torso with his hands before they slid up to cup the delicious mounds of her breasts; his fingers teasing her nipples to hardness even through the layers of fabric.
Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have the soft orbs naked and pliant to his touch, to his mouth.
Grasping the wisp of fabric that passed for sleeves, he tugged, finding it not great effort to unmoor them from her shoulders. Then he tugged down. He was about to reveal his prize when the bubble of desire where they seemed to be suspended burst.
With jarring suddenness, she tensed, pushed herself away from him at the same time she tugged at the sleeves of her dress, attempting to restore her clothing.
He closed his eyes, attempting to block the enticing sight of her, to bring his raging desire under control.
His hands fisted on his thighs with the effort of not reaching for her.
He didn’t know what had caused her to snap, maybe he had moved too fast. Wanted too much, too soon. But regardless of her motives, she had signaled to stop, and he would respect her wishes if it killed him.
“Pray forgive me. It was not my intention to cause you distress.” That was the most sincere apology he could muster, for he could not say he regretted kissing her.
She stood from the bench, wobbled on her legs, and he reached out a hand to steady her, but she stumbled away from his touch. Awkward and flustered. Frightened? Surely not. Not of him.
“This shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”
“Why not?” He stood as well, facing her. Her wide eyed gaze dropped to his crotch, her face reflecting horror, and he realized that the unmistakable outline of his erection tented his trousers. Fuck! He didn’t want to scare her. “Josephine—”
“No.” She took a step back. “It’s wrong.” She managed to tug the sleeves on and ran her hand through her hair, no doubt attempting to reinstate order within herself. As if by restoring her appearance she could erase what had just transpired between them.
“Nothing has ever felt more right than having you in my arms.”
“No, Michael. I keep telling you and you don’t listen.
This can’t happen anymore.” She motioned between the two of them.
“We are not the same people we used to be. We can’t just resume where we left off, as if the last twelve years did not occur, did not leave a mark on both of us. We can’t reconstruct the past.”
“I wasn’t trying to reconstruct the past. What I want is to build a future. Acknowledging the past, but not letting it dictate the rest of our lives.”
“Maybe everything that happened was for the best. Maybe we are not meant to be together.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want a liaison. I… appreciate what you are doing for me and Edward, but after this is done, I just want to be free. Be my own person. By myself.”
Her words cut deep. Maybe these feelings were one-sided.
Maybe she didn’t feel the same after so many years.
After he had proven to be such a big disappointment.
Was he selfishly wanting to claim her when she had other plans and aspirations for her life?
But she had kissed him. And with such passion and fervor. With such hunger…
So what? He was able to arouse her passion. They had always been compatible in that regard. Didn’t mean she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She had said so in so many words.
And he didn’t have the right to interfere with her wishes.
Not after her life had been so thoroughly shattered.
Not after suffering imprisonment and worse for so many years.
She deserved to have the life she wanted.
She deserved to make her own choices. And if he wasn’t one of them?
So be it. At least she would be happy. And safe. He would ensure that.
“As you wish.”
Josephine stood facing Michael in the middle of the folly, in the center of the maze, touching her lips, surprised not to find them scorching hot. They were still tingling from his kiss. The phantom sensation like the bursting of a thousand champagne bubbles.
For a moment there she had been lost to passion, to love. She had forgotten everything except the pleasure he was able to conjure. The rightness of being in his arms. For a few blissful minutes she had no past, wasn’t worried about the future, and instead lived only in the wondrous moment.
But that could never be. She was not the same person anymore.
And she couldn’t give him all he wanted.
All he deserved. If she took what he offered without full knowledge, she would be depriving him in more ways than one.
She would become a liability in his life.
And he would eventually come to resent her.
She should tell him everything. Better dash all his hopes now.
Why hadn’t she? Because she didn’t want his pity.
It was bad enough that she had to live with the knowledge of being less than she thought.
She couldn’t bear it from him. Especially not while staying under his roof, having to see him every day, and being forced to acknowledge the regret in his eyes.
But was the pain she saw in his eyes any easier to bear? She had hurt him with her words, and her heart bled because of it.
“I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t want to hurt you. Trust me, this is for the best.”
With that, she turned and ran away. Like a coward. Because she could not bear his pain, or her desire to run back into his arms and forget reason.