22. Darcy
Darcy
“Yes,” she said, and my heart thundered.
Her breath hitched—a small sound that settled heavy in my chest. She looked at my mouth, quick and instinctive. The dark room seemed to tighten around us, thick with something unspoken and utterly magnetic, pulling us closer together.
“You are so beautiful,” I said, running a finger down her cheek, along her jaw, and then I filled my hands with her hair. “God.” My voice came out strangled, and I was sure she must have felt my pent-up longing for her.
There was something about her that lowered my defenses, that had me trusting her with my feelings, that made me want to take risks and throw caution to the wind, not worry about everyone else, and, for once, feel.
I was tired of being iron-willed and walled-off.
I wanted to be happy, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was starting to know what happiness was.
In a sudden rush of primeval instincts, I wanted to claim her and make her mine.
But I should take those next steps slowly with her. I’d maybe shown a better side of myself this afternoon. I couldn’t mess this up by crushing her to me and devouring her like I wanted.
I closed the gap between us, though, lowered my face and gently grazed my lips against hers, once and again.
Her lips were soft, warm, tasting faintly of summer strawberries and champagne. The library was hushed around us, but the intensity inside my brain was loud and driving, wanting more.
She exhaled against my mouth, and the sound unraveled me. I’d always prided myself on being careful and composed and deliberate; that’s who I thought I was, but her sigh unleashed someone else in me.
I drew her closer and trailed my hand up then down her back, reaching farther and farther down her silky dress, over her luscious arse, my fingers frantic to find the hem and push it up.
I groaned and turned my head to get better access to her mouth.
She curled her fingers into my shirt as if she needed something to hold on to, as if the room had tilted and I was the only steady thing in it.
I loved that she was leaning on me, into me, trusting me.
I kissed her softly, slowly, as if I were trying to memorize her lips, steeling myself to hold back.
“Darcy,” she moaned. She threaded her fingers through my hair, then scraped, desperate.
Her voice was broken, as though this wasn’t enough for her either, inciting me even more. She pressed herself into my chest, and she reached under my jacket, sliding her hands around my back.
Her need sparked my skin like a live wire. I cupped her face more forcefully, and our mouths collided, hungry and searching, my breath mingling with hers in hot, uneven bursts. Every tilt of my head sought to deepen the kiss, sending a rush of heat spiraling through me.
This time, my kiss was fierce, loaded with pent-up need and adrenaline, and she responded as our tongues frantically linked and played and licked.
We kept going in a dizzying rhythmic sweep.
Then our lips and tongue and hands went even messier and dirty.
We reached and grasped, sending out signals that said all the things we’d been dancing around today.
I wanted to take her upstairs. Now. I’d never felt like this so immediately.
Usually, I thought through every decision thoroughly, even a one-night stand, and by the time I’d examined all angles—was there any chance I’d see her again, who did she know that I knew, was she doing this because of my connections or because she was attracted to my money or because she liked me—I’d talked myself out of making a move.
I’d never given myself the freedom to let loose.
A scraping sound broke out.
I tensed. Had that noise come from outside the window or the door? We both pulled back, breathing hard, and waited. Nothing.
She leaned close, our noses almost brushing. “Well,” she whispered, voice unsteady. “That was…unexpected.”
I reached under her hair and palmed the back of her neck. “Not for me. I wanted to kiss you this afternoon at the hay baling. I wanted to kiss you at the river. I want you now in that gorgeous dress. So much. I want every version of you.”
She laughed—breathless—and rested her forehead against mine.
Between the towering shelves of books and the soft glow of the reading lamp, it felt like the rest of the world had gone silent for us.
“What should we do now?” I asked. “Do you want to go upstairs?”
“Yes, I want to be with you—I want to spend the night with you.” She curled her fingers into the tops of my trousers, her words loaded with heat and promise. “But we’re both sharing rooms.”
I froze against her. I’d been so wrapped up in Lizzy, I hadn’t worried about Wills and Jane once since the farm activity. I’d forgotten to look after my brother and make sure Jane was as interested in Wills as Wills was in her.
The door bumped farther open, and heavy breathing and squeals cut through the air. Ooodles and Max bounded in. I love my human, the raucous interlopers seemed to say as they circled around us.
Their furry appearance was at once frustrating and welcome.
I needed to be out there to chaperone Wills and Jane. I didn’t have any specific reason to distrust her, yet I had to be the voice of reason for Wills, in case Jane had another motive for getting together with him.
I ran my hand down Lizzy’s side. Even in our short time, she seemed sincere and honest. Passionate and kind. If the siblings were similar, Jane would also be authentic. But I didn’t know for sure.
“We should join the others,” I said, feeling confused, less sure over things. Needing to judge if Jane was as kind as she seemed, so I could get back to kissing Lizzy. “Let’s go to dinner.”
Lizzy looked disappointed, and that was some consolation. But this all had to wait. I couldn’t think about myself anymore. I had one job to do this weekend. More time with Lizzy could come later.
We sat down to dinner, where I made sure I was next to Wills, who, of course, was next to Jane.
Lizzy was at the other end of the table, and I felt myself staring at her when I thought she wasn’t looking, the set of her jawline, the impatient toss of her hair, then shaking myself to keep watch over Wills and Jane.
A couple of times when Lizzy caught me staring, our eyes met.
I could feel my chest going up and down—shallow breathing, tight.
I couldn’t even smile at her; I felt worked up, full of want and need.
I wished I could explain to her why I was sitting here, not beside her, but how would that go down?
I’m worried your sister could be fake and superficial and trying to trap my brother like the last woman who broke his heart, and if you sat next to me, I wouldn’t be able to notice anything but you.
I steeled myself not to look at Lizzy anymore and only scrutinized Jane.
The longer I watched her, the more I could see Wills falling hopelessly in love with her. He was clearly bowled over by her reserve, the demure turn of her head, her small, discreet laugh, the way she covered her mouth shyly.
She gave him nothing, really. No smile that she didn’t give the others, and she didn’t speak to him any more than she spoke with Knightley on her other side.
And as she politely questioned Knightley about his vet practice and his good deeds, she gave Wills and me equal attention.
Wills’s eyes were too bright, his smile too wide when she addressed him, and panic radiated through my chest. He was visibly grasping at her crumbs, probably making more of her gestures than was there.
And she didn’t seem to have inherited Lizzy’s open face and propensity for speaking her mind.
My heart sank at what lay ahead for us.
He’d be devastated to hear my advice on how to proceed.
I waited by Wills’s side all through after-dinner drinks and endless chatting, praying for Jane to get tired and head to bed, so Wills would do the same.
This was torture. I snuck glances at Lizzy chatting to everyone.
Once in a while, I caught her looking at me, puzzled and hurt, probably offended by my sudden change in focus.
She might even be seeing my actions as a rejection.
No wonder she was reticent about me. I was all in one moment, acting genuinely desperate to be with her, then all of a sudden, I was barely paying her any attention.
She didn’t know why, and now was not the time to explain, within earshot of Wills.
And I didn’t imagine she’d take kindly to my concerns about Wills and her sister.
I reminded myself of my role. My most important job was to stand between the world and my brother, protect him. Lizzy didn’t ever need to know I was worried. I simply needed to encourage some rationality in Wills, convince him to slow down.
All would be well, unlike that time I stuffed things up as kids.
Tired of watching Wills, I’d taken my eyes off him, and he’d fallen into the lake and almost drowned.
I’d missed another time recently. Despite my misgivings, I’d thought this Imogen woman had been good for him because she’d been all over him, and he was in heaven.
Too late, I realized we’d both been fooled, and I’d had to step in.
By that time, Wills had been heartbroken.
I’d messed up enough, and that wasn’t going to happen again.
But for the first time in my adult life, a sharp resentment sliced through me. I was babysitting Wills rather than accepting Lizzy’s offer of spending the night together.
It was after midnight before I followed him wearily upstairs.
I found a message from Shay on my phone which I’d left on my bed. Saw clips of the hay baling. Darcy, this is who you are. My heart softened at her words. Funny. I’d forgotten to check.
William wandered around the room, plucking at curtains, cushions, and clothing, being all dreamy about Jane again. He picked up a package on the chair and pulled out some photos.