Page 73 of Never a Bride
Suddenly the back of his hand touched her breast, and he jumped away from her as if she’d burned him.
“Oh, my lady, forgive my clumsiness!” he cried, looking mortified.
Flustered, Emmeline glanced at Alex, ready for his amused laughter. Instead his narrowed gaze pinned Maxwell like a sword. Was he angry that another man had touched her?
“Willoughby, you’ve gone too quickly to the advanced lesson,” Alex said in a low voice unlike his own.
She gaped at him, wondering if he was actually jealous—over her? She didn’t know if she was giddy at the possibility or frightened. She was held motionless, trapped by the mysterious depths of his gaze.
Maxwell blathered on, obviously unaware of the emotions raging around him.
“Your friendship has meant so much to me, my lady, but how will I ever look upon you again?”
“It was merely an accident,” she said quickly, needing to end their lesson. Watching Alex, she felt like she was trying to stop a rising storm.
“I should go,” Maxwell said. “I can’t believe I—”
“Willoughby, you’re not using my lessons enough,” Alex said slowly.
She watched with awe as he seemed to lock every emotion behind an effortless mask of friendliness. He was much more complicated than the face he showed the world. What did he hide, and why did she desperately want to understand it all?
“But tomorrow night you will,” Alex continued. “You will practice touching at Lady Rutherford’s card party.”
Maxwell’s face faded to the color of an uncooked pastry. “Alex, I cannot—I wouldn’t know where to begin, what to say.”
“You will wait for a woman to play the spinet, and you will sit beside her, helping her to turn the pages of the music. And you will touch her.”
“Alex!” Emmeline cried. “What are you doing?”
“It will work,” he said patiently, never taking his gaze from her. “You’ll see.”
Maxwell stuttered through his good-byes, and soon she and Alex were alone. The emotions raging through her were only for him. He could manipulate her very heartbeat and the blood that pulsed through her veins.
And the way he looked at her now, his amusement gone, his intensity making him seem like a stranger—
Without a word, she dashed around him at a dead run for the house, knowing she was not capable of resisting him anymore. He caught her arm, pulling her about to face him.
“Em, what did you think you were doing?”
“I?” she cried, aghast. “I’ve only done everything you wanted me to do.”
“Then why did you let him touch you like that?” he demanded, gripping her by both arms now.
“Lethim?”
“Very well, I’ll be more blunt. Youleanedinto his hand.”
“I did not!” How could he even suggest such a thing? Anger clouded the last of her good judgment. “Why are you acting like this over a simple accident?”
He opened his mouth, frustration raging across his face.
“Do you not understand?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “No one can touch you but me.”
The kiss Alex gave her was demanding and possessive, and Emmeline felt tears of frustration fall down her cheeks. She finally pushed him away and wiped her hand across her mouth.
“Stop this!” she cried. “Our encounters cannot always end thus. You don’t mean any of it!”
With a sob she turned and ran from him, ignoring his call, not stopping until she slammed the door to her chamber and leaned against it, holding the stitch in her side.
