Page 38 of Never a Bride
She could feel his warm breath on her face, felt his hands slide down her back to her waist. She couldn’t seem to get enough air, didn’t know what to do with her own trembling hands. What was he doing? What could he be thinking?
Then he caught her hard against him, and she only had time for a gasp before he touched her lips with his.
Chapter 12
Emmeline felt frozen with shock and the rush of such confusing emotions that she was overwhelmed. Alex Thornton was kissing her, his lips moving so gently, so lightly, that she wanted to groan with the tantalizing promise of it all.
Then he lifted her up on her toes, pressing every part of them together. Through her gown, she could feel that hard part of him again, and her restraint vanished with this sure knowledge that he desired her.
“Emmeline,” he said hoarsely against her mouth.
Then his tongue slid along her lips and she gasped. Only one man had ever kissed her, but it had been chaste and sweet—not like this. Not like he had to go on kissing her or die.
Her hands were caught between them, and she pressed them flat to his chest, feeling the strength and hardness of his body, the tautness as he leaned over her.
“Let me taste you,” he murmured, and the vibration of his mouth on hers made her moan.
“You already are,” she whispered back.
She could tell he smiled, could feel every part of him. He slanted his head and his mouth took hers harder, until she helplessly parted her lips and let him do as he willed.
He invaded her mouth like he’d invaded her life and dreams, swiftly, forcefully. His tongue claimed hers and she shuddered, letting him press her even harder to his hips. His hands cupped her buttocks, and she shamefully wished there were no layers of garments between them.
She moaned, reveling in the wildness of his mouth on her lips, on her cheek, on her throat. She arched back, secure in his embrace, giving him freely whatever he wanted to kiss as she plunged her hands into the softness of his hair.
He murmured her name against her throat, then against the barely revealed curve of her breast. She wanted more; she wanted to disappear with him into the dark, to—
And then she heard laughter.
They came apart so fast that Emmeline had to grab hold of tree trunk not to fall.
Alex straightened his garments as he looked over his shoulder. “I don’t see anyone coming.”
“I hear them!” She covered her mouth with her hands and waited, trying desperately to invent a fabrication for why she would be out in the dark with a known scoundrel. She looked into the trees, out across the dark Thames, anywhere but at him. Oh God, what had she done? What would she have done, if they hadn’t been interrupted?
Then the voices drifted away, and they were alone again. She burned with a humiliation she’d never felt before. This couldn’t go on; he had to get out of their lives, out of her thoughts.
“Alex.” She winced at how uneven her voice sounded. “I have to tell you something, something important. And I want you to listen very carefully.”
By moonlight he looked amused, but his intense eyes never left her.
“Emmeline, what just happened was—”
“No! Do not speak of it; just listen to me. I don’t mean to offend you, but you have to understand that you are not the man for Blythe.”
One of his eyebrows rose, but she was desperate to get the words out now—because otherwise she might remain silent just so that she could occasionally see him, even if only from afar.
“Allow me to finish. Blythe wants marriage and children. She needs a steady man, one who will provide for her.”
His smile never diminished, and she hated feeling that he laughed at her.
“My dear Emmeline, I have no plans to marry.”
“Well, that settles that,” she said in a rush.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself, and provide some enjoyment in return.”
Her cheeks heated again, and she was grateful for the night. “You must understand that that isn’t what I wish for my sister.”
