Page 11 of Never Leave Me
Her hope began to quickstep to a faster tempo. He was regaining consciousness. She could sense it. Before she could rationalize her actions, she let her mouth fuse with his more firmly.
She hadn’t kissed anyone since the summer vacation at the beach after her freshman year of high school, when her boyfriend had taken her for a walk along the ocean’s edge and told her she was beautiful. That was the last summer before Mom had taken a turn for the worse. Watching her mom’s suffering over the following months had forced Ellen to grasp the reality of the genetic disease she’d inherited. Ever since, she hadn’t allowed herself to get into a serious relationship, even though she’d had opportunities to do so.
After all, she’d seen no reason to give a man hope when there wasn’t any. She had no future to offer, even with the mature men who’d claimed her disease didn’t matter. They didn’t realize she’dend up a burden, holding them back from having a full life and eventually causing them grief.
Right here, now, none of that mattered. Nothing mattered except drawing Harrison out of oblivion and back to reality. If kissing him was the key to opening the door, she would use it to her advantage.
Besides, they were just friends. In fact, he was one of her best friends, especially after the past year of experiencing so much tragedy together.
But even as friends, she wasn’t immune to what a handsome man he was. She also wasn’t immune to the fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelors in England. He’d dated occasionally, but over the past year, he’d fended off advances from women, too busy and consumed with her care to make time for himself.
A part of her felt guilty for taking up so much of his life and leaving him no room for anyone else. But another part of her rationalized she would have done the same thing for him if their roles had been reversed.
And now, as a friend, she was obligated to do what she could to help him...
She moved slowly, delicately, drawing him further out of his unconsciousness. But with each tender stroke, she felt sweet warmth stealing through her, awakening her body to needs and desires she’d always refused to acknowledge.
Only when he released a soft groan did she grasp that he was kissing her in return and had lifted his hands to her back. His grip exuded an utterly irresistible strength, so that when he angled his mouth against hers, she felt like she was getting a taste of bliss.
He’s awake.Her brain registered the fact, but her overwhelmed senses didn’t process it, not until his hands slid to her hips. Thecaress sent a shudder of pleasure through her, enough to make her more fully aware that somehow the kissing had gone too far.
She froze and her eyes flew open. At the same moment, his dark lashes lifted, revealing his green eyes, half-lidded and filled with desire.
Did Harrison desire her?
Alarms went off in her head, and she dragged her lips away from his. For the duration of several ragged breaths, she hovered above him, his gasps coming in soft bursts.
His attention was riveted to her mouth. His fingers trailed up her spine to her hair, and she sensed he planned to kiss her again. Surely, he didn’t know where he was, or what was happening, or even that he was awake from his near encounter with a coma. He probably thought he was dreaming. Once he realized he was kissing her and with such ardor, he’d be mortified.
Somehow, she had to extricate herself and put a stop to the intimacy, now, before they embarrassed themselves any further.
Harrison’s blood pumped at triple—no, quadruple—the speed. And he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
He’d felt her feathery-light kisses on his cheeks. Then, the next thing he’d known her lips had touched his. He wasn’t sure what had motivated her to make the change. He didn’t care. All he knew was that he needed to kiss her again and again, that he didn’t want to let her go.
His fingers glided through her silky hair to the back of her head. With gentle pressure, he tried to guide her down, desperate for another taste of her mouth. But she resisted, and splotches of pink stole into her cheeks.
Maybe he could pretend he didn’t sense her discomfort. Maybehe could pretend he was still half-asleep and didn’t know what he was doing.
“You’re awake.” She averted her eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d regained consciousness ... or I wouldn’t have ... I mean, I didn’t know...”
“It’s all right.” His voice came out groggy.
“I didn’t mean to do it.” She broke away from him and scooted onto the bedside chair. “It’s just that you responded to my touch. You moved when I kissed your cheek. So I thought I could wake you up...”
Disappointment punched him in the gut. He should have known her kisses hadn’t meant anything beyond her effort to help him. He should have known the merest touch wouldn’t affect her the same way it did him. He should have known he’d read much more into her overtures than she intended.
He’d made an absolute fool of himself, and now he had to work out something to say to put her at ease. But what?
She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
He was glad she had. Couldn’t he say that?
“I’m sorry.” She stood abruptly, looking everywhere but at him.
He had to be honest with her that he wasn’t sorry. That he’d loved every single second. That he’d do it over in a heartbeat. But at her keen discomfort over their moment of passion, he could do nothing less than be a gentleman. “You mustn’t fret, love.”
“You’re sure?” She still avoided his gaze.
