Page 48 of Beyond Montana's Sky
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Cai swept Edith into his arms, delighting in holding her. He kept his gaze on her, drinking in her beauty. Her color was high, her brown eyes brilliant. He could see the pulse flutter in her throat and feel the way her hand trembled in his.
Edith, of course, was an expert dancer, and he certainly had enough practice at the shindigs the Andersons liked to throw in the winter. So, even though he held her closer than was entirely appropriate, they had no awkwardness, no stutters, and no misplaced steps.
With his hand on her waist, Cai guided her with expert confidence, easily, gracefully. They almost floated, the world around them disappearing until only the two of them existed.
As they whirled around the dance floor, attraction simmered, tender and oh, too enticing.
The music ended, and they slowed to a stop. But he didn’t,couldn’trelease her. Edith’s face was flushed, her eyes sparkling, her breathing ragged. One small tendril of hair escaped her elaborate arrangement to curl around her face. She looked as unlike the proper lady he’d first met as could be.
He twirled her to the corner of the dance floor, and then slid an arm around her waist and guided her toward the staircase. They threaded through the press of people surrounding the dance floor watching the dancers.
Cai caught the eye of Edith’s son and saw the young man nod and smile, as if bestowing his approval. He chuckled, a bit touched by the gesture.
Still, he’d best whisk Ben’s mother out of her son’s sight for what he planned next, for he needed to kiss her—not a gentle kind of kiss to let her know he was interested.No.A kiss meant to shake Edith out of the cool politeness she used like a shield to hide what he suspected was a passionate nature, perhaps one more fiery than even she knew.
He glanced around and decided to see what the area behind the staircase offered. Once out of sight, Cai turned and placed his hands on her arms. “Edith,” he said, his hunger for her clear in his voice.
Edith stilled. Her cheeks were flushed, her lush lips soft and reddened and her breath came far too rapidly.
Cai inhaled her heady, spicy rose scent and gave her a few seconds to protest. He expected her to pull away, maybe even slap his face. If she did, somehow, he’d find the strength to let her go.
Instead, her very stillness was like the hushed lull that came before a summer thunderstorm—wild and electric—whipping through the mountains.
She went on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. Her mouth was hot and seeking. The explosive energy between them caught him off guard, the intensity practically knocking him out of his boots.
He reeled her around until her back was against the wall, clamping his arms around her waist and plundering her mouth.
Coming up for air, he kissed his way across her jawline, and then pressed his mouth to the side of her neck, right underneath a tiny, sable curl. The sensual little catch of her breath made his blood arrow from his brain straight south, along with an intense need to brand his claim on her soft, white skin.
It took everything he had to pull back slightly, knowing if he didn’t put some distance between them, they’d be in trouble, for he’d sweep her up and carry her upstairs to a room.This is one of those times I wish I wasn’t a gentleman.
Edith appeared soft and vulnerable, gazing at him with her huge dark eyes, her full lips still damp and rosy from his kisses. He should feel like a cad for kissing her, but he’d needed to just once before they parted.
The sound of approaching laughter made him step back, and she straightened away from against the wall.
No one came near, so Cai relaxed and once again moved closer.
With a trembling hand, Edith touched her lips. Her eyes filled. “We can’t do this.” She lowered her arm. One tear spilled over and ran down her cheek.
“Oh, darlin’, please don’t cry.” He cupped her face and wiped away the moisture with his thumb.
The thought that he’d hurt Edith made Cai feel lower than a snake’s belly. Something tightened in his throat, impeding any speech—that is, if he even had enough brain power to know what to say, much less force out the words. He pressed a kiss on the damp spot of her cheek.
Edith touched his face, and then lowered her hand. She wiggled out from between him and the wall and whirled to leave.
Before she’d taken a step, he caught her arm.
With a sniff, she turned her face to him. Not the haughty, disapproving sniffs she’d made in the past, but a soft, vulnerable sound—a prelude to more tears.
In the distance, he heard the musicians change from a slow waltz to a polka, the beat light and catchy and so at odds with the heaviness in his chest.Don’t go, Cai wanted to plead. But what came out was, “Write to me.” His voice sounded thick.
She shook her head, pressing her lips tight.
“Please.” He swallowed, and somehow found the words. “I want to know you’re doing well. That you’re…happy in Boston.” He brought her gloved hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss on her palm. Then he curled her fingers over the spot. “Something to take with you…to remember me.”
She clenched the hand into a fist, as if truly holding on to a treasure. Ages seemed to pass before she answered one precious, unbelievable, “Yes.”
