Chapter 8 #2
He drew out the kiss slowly, as if they were the only people in the world.
Angelet desperately tried to remember how she was supposed to kiss, but with every passing second, her mind spun further and further from reason, lost in the maelstrom of sensation caused by Rafe’s mouth on hers.
No need for her to remember how to kiss…
he knew what to do. When she felt his tongue flick against hers, she gasped and pulled back for a second, but Rafe didn't let her go far—by now he’d somehow wrapped both arms around her, and she was molded against him, kissing him over and over.
Only when the cry of a night bird pierced the air did she recall exactly where she was, and why. She pushed herself away from Rafe, breathing hard. “A moment,” she gasped. “I need to…I don’t know what I need…” She shook her head, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Forgive my behavior.”
“Nothing to forgive, Angelet. I liked it.” His voice was warm, easy. “If that's how you show pity, maybe I do want to be pitied after all.”
“It wasn’t pity,” Angelet confessed. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not like this normally.”
“Or you are, and you just needed to get free of your prison to know it.”
“I’m not in any prison,” she objected, remembering all the details of what brought them both here. “Remember, I’m going to join a nunnery.”
“That’s another word for prison, if the going isn’t your choice.”
“I do want to go there,” she insisted. And indeed she did, if that was where she could be cured of her affliction and if it meant she would see her son again.
“You’re hell-bent on a heavenly reward, even after a kiss like that. So you’re not going to invite me into your bed along this journey? You don’t need a lover, one last wild indulgence before you lock yourself away for the rest of your life?”
She gasped at the suggestion. “I can’t take a lover!”
“Why not?” he asked, sounding far too reasonable. “Consider, my lady, that you have what—a week? two?—before you lock yourself away behind walls for the rest of your life. You might never see a man again. You certainly won’t see one as handsome as me.”
Despite everything, she bit her lip to stop a giggle.
He continued, “For a little while, you’re on your own. You can do anything you like, experience anything you like. Including some pleasures which are denied you by the circumstances of your widowhood.”
“You offer to be my lover,” she said, to ensure she heard correctly. She couldn’t have. His words were too bold and too scandalous to be real.
Rafe nodded, his eyes locked with hers. “If you like, Angelet. If you don’t like, I’ll never press you. You have my word. And if you do take me as a lover, you can rely on my discretion. I’ll never betray a confidence, not during, and not after. And while we’re together, it’s on your terms.”
“My terms?”
He gave her a little smile. “I’ll obey your every command, indulge your every whim, satisfy your every curiosity.”
“Oh.” Angelet had never heard an offer quite like that before.
Rafe took her hand in his. “I’m not modest—I admit that. But I also don’t boast about something unless I can back it up. If you take me as your lover, you won’t be disappointed.”
“Oh.” Eventually she’d have to start breathing again. Rafe’s proximity was making her feel distinctly light-headed.
“And what have you to lose?” he added. “We’re together a fortnight, at most. Then it’s over and we go our separate ways. You to your nunnery, and me to…wherever. Either way, soon we’ll never see each other again.”
“What if we spend a night together and I wish to end it there?” she asked, hardly believing this conversation was happening.
“Then it’s ended. I mean what I say about obeying your every wish.”
“Oh.” Sweet Mercy, stop saying oh, you fool, she thought.
He waited, his eyes intent on hers. She waited for some hint that he was teasing her, or that it was a joke. But everything in his demeanor suggested he was serious.
At last, she whispered, “I must think on this.”
“Of course. It’s an unusual proposal, to be sure.”
“I may never speak of it again,” she warned.
“That’s an answer in itself.” He took her hand, laid a soft kiss on the back of it, and then released her, showing her that he didn’t just take what he wanted. He was content to wait for it to come to him. And his words made it seem quite natural for her to want to come to him.
“You’re a most perplexing man,” she said.
He smiled and it nearly took her breath away. “Yes, I know,” he said. “It’s part of my charm.”
She realized she was already leaning in for another kiss. Lord, he was dangerously attractive. Too bad he knew it.
Trying to recover a modicum of dignity, she rose to her feet. “It’s well past time to return.”
“You’re undoubtedly right.”
But she just stood there, overwhelmed by emotions.
Rafe stood too, never taking his attention from her. He raised one eyebrow. “What’s the matter? One foot in front of the other, beautiful. That’s how I manage it.” Now he was teasing her, but his teasing felt gentle rather than cruel.
“I’m moving.” She took a step. There. She did remember how to walk. Then she stumbled in the darkness.
Rafe’s hand was at her elbow. “Careful,” he said in a low voice. “If you get a scratch, it will look very bad on me. Not to mention on you.”
Rafe walked Angelet back to the inn. It was as if the kiss and his outrageous proposal never happened.
But Angelet could still feel his mouth on hers, and his arms around her, a sort of protective circle that urged her to forget the whole world and focus only on him.
She had no doubt that if she allowed him into her bed, it would be…
memorable. He made no secret of his flirtatious nature and his experience with women.
However, actually accepting his proposal was out of the question. She was a modest lady, a widow, a soon-to-be postulant in a nunnery. She was not some woman ruled only by her lust.
In fact, she’d been good and modest her whole life…
and what had it got her except being sent away to a place where there was no other choice but to be good and modest?
She curled a lip in irritation. Why should she never be allowed to enjoy anything in life on her own terms?
She was always being ordered by someone else.
A man with more power and authority than she’d ever have.
I’ll obey your every command.
The more she thought about it, the more Rafe’s offer made her blood catch fire. What would a night with him be like, if he truly obeyed her every command and indulged her every wish? Wouldn’t that be worth it, considering the years of solitary, holy loneliness that awaited her?