At Last #4
Her words chopped off with a gasp when he slapped his large palms against the stones on either side of her head, caging her in.
“Liaison?” He pinned her in place with a look that simultaneously froze and heated her.
“The woman standing in front of me is no’ the same woman who shared my bed, my home, my every bloody thought for all those weeks.
Which means one of you is a damn liar. I’ll give you one chance – one chance, Sophia – to tell me which one of you is false before I find out for myself. ”
“There is nothing to tell. I’m the same woman and––”
His mouth came down on hers, ending her words, the raw passion and naked need in his kiss obliterating her every thought.
She tried to remain unresponsive, fought to keep her longing and desire contained, but they ripped through her, a razor sharp sword that sliced through her resolve and shredded her good intentions.
He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and the battle was lost. With a groan she was helpless to contain, she wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips.
And instantly felt as if she’d arrived home after an arduous journey.
He crushed her to him, deepening the kiss.
The irresistible heat of his body surrounded her, and she rose up on her toes, desperate to get closer.
With a sound that resembled a growl, he curved one large hand around her bottom, pressing her tighter against his hard arousal.
Dear God, he felt so good. Tasted so good.
And she’d missed him so much. Wanted him so badly.
He lifted his head, ending their kiss, and Sophia barely refrained from moaning in protest. Clinging to his broad shoulders, her head flopped weakly forward.
His heartbeat thundered against her forehead, in unison with his rapid breaths beating warm against her temple.
She squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out the recriminations falling upon her like bricks.
One kiss. That’s all it had taken for every one of her fine resolutions and good intentions to crumble to dust. For him to render her breathless.
Boneless. Just as he had from that first moment she’d seen him in the meadow, when he’d stepped into a shaft of sunlight and utterly dazzled her.
Her momentary fear at finding herself alone with a stranger in such an isolated spot vanished when she’d looked into his eyes.
While those beautiful dark blue depths clearly harboured secrets, they also reflected a vulnerability and sadness that told her without any words that he’d suffered great loss.
As she’d suffered the same, she felt an instant kinship with him, one that went far deeper than the physical attraction she’d felt.
Between his commanding height, muscular physique, thick, unruly hair, bold features, and mischievous grin, he was nothing short of spectacular.
In spite of the fact that at five and twenty he was twelve years her junior, she’d been unable to resist him – an affliction that given her current breathless, boneless state, clearly hadn’t lessened one iota.
She’d tried so hard these last six months to forget him, the magic between them, bury her feelings, and she’d thought she’d succeeded.
One kiss proved she’d completely failed.
Filled with self-directed reproach, Sophia pulled in an unsteady breath, then opened her eyes and raised her head. And found Ian studying her with grim satisfaction.
“Well, that answered that question,” he said in his hoarse Scottish burr. He leaned forwards to nuzzle her neck with his warm lips, rushing a sigh of pleasure into her throat. How such a firm mouth could be so wickedly soft, she didn’t know.
“Caileag bhrèagha,” he murmured in Gaelic against her skin.
“My beautiful girl. The girl I met in the meadow.” He lightly sucked on her sensitive skin, then with a tortured sound he raised his head.
Framed her face between his palms. And regarded her through very serious eyes that burned with suppressed passion.
“As much as I’m aching to continue this right here, right now, ’tis not the place. ”
She flicked a glance towards the windows and gave a tight nod. Dear God, she was fortunate they hadn’t already been discovered. “Not the place,” she concurred, “and discretion is called for. We cannot return to the ballroom together.”
He briefly glanced at her mouth then nodded.
“One look at us and even the most casual observer would know we shared more than conversation out here and I’ve no wish to give rise to any speculation that could harm your reputation.
There’s no need to return to the ballroom at all. My carriage awaits us in the mews.”
Without another word, he took her hand and led her down the terrace steps. Questions bounced through Sophia’s mind, begging to be voiced, but she shoved them aside. All that mattered now was escaping the party without being noticed.
Once in the garden, she followed him along the shadows near the high stone wall surrounding the property.
His warm, strong fingers remained wrapped firmly around hers, guiding her safely over the uneven ground and shooting pleasurable tingles up her arm.
Mental images of his big, sun-browned, calloused hands flashed unbidden through her mind.
Removing her clothes. Exploring every inch of her skin.
Teasing her feminine folds. Soaping her body as she lounged in his brass bathtub.
Feeding her morsels of food he bought in the village.
Bringing her more pleasure than she’d ever dreamed possible …
They arrived at the wooden gate at the rear of the garden and silently slipped into the mews.
After helping her into the waiting carriage, Ian settled himself on the seat opposite her, then tapped on the roof, and the vehicle started with a jerk.
Ensconced in the safety of the dark, curtained interior, moving swiftly away from the party, Sophia drew what felt like her first deep breath since she’d seen Ian standing across the ballroom.
As much as she dreaded their upcoming conversation, there was no avoiding it.
Best to get it over with as quickly as possible then send him on his way back to Scotland.
She’d listen to his explanations, offer her own – making absolutely certain he understood there could be no further relationship between them. Then they’d both return to their lives.
Lives that had briefly intersected, but never would again.
Four
Sophia’s pulse jumped when Ian moved from the opposite side of the slow-moving carriage to sit next to her.
He reached out and touched her cheek. “Sophia. God, how I’ve missed you. You’ve not left my thoughts for even a moment these past six months.”
The anguish in those whispered words flayed her. “I’ve thought of you, too, Ian, but—”
He pressed a fingertip to her lips. “No ‘but’. The fact that you thought of me is enough for this moment.”
“Where are we going?”
“Mayfair. I’ve let a townhouse on Park Lane.”
Sophia’s brows shot up. “That’s the most exclusive part of town.”
“Aye.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Ye didn’t expect an earl – even a Scottish one – to stay in a hovel, did you?”
Embarrassment heated her face. “Of course not. I’m simply not accustomed to thinking of you as an earl, especially as you seemed very much at home living in the groundskeeper cottage.”
A sheepish expression crossed his handsome features.
“That was actually my private hunting lodge, and I’m used to being there alone.
I enjoy occasionally fending for myself, not being surrounded by servants.
It’s my … sanctuary. No one has ever accompanied me there.
” He raised her hand and pressed a kiss against her palm. “Until you.”
Her common sense screamed at her to pull her hand from his, but her inner voice whispered to take this opportunity and enjoy his touch.
The whisper defeated the scream.
“How long do you intend to remain in London?” she asked.
“Just a few days. I must return to Melrose to attend to estate affairs I’ve put off.”
“Put off because you were looking for me?”
“Aye. They paled in importance to finding you, but now that I have, there are duties I cannot postpone any longer.”
Silence swelled between them. Ian looked at Sophia and bludgeoned back the desire threatening to strangle him. He’d inwardly vowed not to pounce on her like a starving mongrel, yet he knew he’d do exactly that if he gave in to the overwhelming temptation to kiss her again.
Determined to keep the promise he’d made to himself, he said, “I’m waiting to hear why you kept your title a secret from me.”
“I’d prefer to hear your explanation first.”
“Very well.” He drew a deep breath, then began, “The day I met you had, until that moment, been very difficult for me, as had the entire preceding year. It was the anniversary of a carriage accident. One that took the lives of both my parents and my sister.”
His words seemed to hang in the air between them and Ian braced himself for the onslaught of painful memories bombarding him. Shocked distress filled her eyes and she captured his hands in hers. “Oh, Ian. How awful. I’m so sorry.”
He gave a tight nod and gripped her hands.
Bloody hell, he hated talking about this.
Hated the horrible images flashing through his mind.
Determined to get this over with, he continued in a rush, “We were returning to Melrose after an extended visit with father’s sister and her family.
It had rained hard the night before, and the roads were rutted and slippery. We should have waited to leave …”
He looked down and whispered the words that had haunted him since that day, words he’d never spoken aloud. “It was my fault.”
“Ian, no––”