Page 22 of A Night of Forever
She burrowed closer, wanting everything, needing more. Was this glory why women fell for rakes? In such pleasure, one could be so lost in the moment that one forgot it was a game.
Agame.
And with that sudden, chilly reminder she regained her senses. It was a game. One she must not lose, or she lost everything.
She turned her head, gently breaking the kiss. Then she stood, her breasts heaving, trying to get her equilibrium back.
After one tension-filled moment, Arend stepped back. Only once there was more space between them did her head begin to clear.
But she still carried the delicious taste of him. Would she ever be able to get rid of it? Worse still, did she want to?
—
Arend bit back a self-deprecating laugh. Who was the seducer here, and who the seduced?
He too felt the scorching heat between them. Seducing Isobel was a task he might enjoy far too much. He ached to touch her, to kiss her, to…so much more. But not here. Not now.
“I should apologize,” he said, “but I cannot say I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” When she looked doubtful he added, “Although this kiss was unnecessary, we will have to practice such small intimacies if we are to make Victoria believe you have grown agreeable to the match.”
He expected some form of retort. But she stood there, stunned, gazing at him as if about to beg him to kiss her again.
He took a step nearer, fighting the urge to drag her into his arms and ravish her—even in this hallway, where anyone who happened upon them would see.
God, he hoped she was not a party to Victoria’s evil deeds. He’d hate to see a noose around that pretty neck.
Her sweet scent rose to coil around his senses. Her bountiful breasts rose and fell in rapid succession, her nipples pebbled and straining against the silk of her gown, just begging for his mouth to suckle them.
Not her breasts. Not here. Not now. Look at her lips.He focused on Isobel’s tempting lips and silently cursed his lack of control.
“For instance,” he continued, “you should not flinch when I compliment you. Or turn your head away if I try to kiss your cheek, or pull your hand free of my grasp when I raise it for a kiss. That would set thetongossiping as to why you have accepted my hand in marriage. We do not wish them to jump to the wrong conclusion, do we?”
At his raised eyebrow, her face lost color.
Good, he thought. She understood that one of the reasons society might consider she’d accepted this match was because she was with child and had no choice.
“You’re saying we need to be on good terms, but not really good terms,” she said. “I need to let you show intimacies appropriate between a debutante and her fiancé, but nothing more.”
“Correct,” he agreed. “A touch here and there, but nothing overtly sexual or sensual in nature.”
She glared. “In other words, nothing like the kiss you just gave me.”
He felt his mouth quirk up. “Precisely. Please forgive me. I forgot myself.”
Her scorching look told him she didn’t believe a word.
Wise Isobel. He held out his arm and tried to look penitent. “Come. We should go to supper before anyone misses us.”
She accepted his support with only a slight hesitation, and he opened the door back into the empty recital room. As he drew her with him, there was one thing of which he was certain.
Isobel had never been kissed before. He felt it in her hesitation, in her innocent touch. He saw it when she broke off the kiss, wonder in her eyes. And alarm. No woman who was not a virgin would fear her body’s reactions to his sensual onslaught.
No woman was that good an actress.
It appeared more and more likely that Isobel was innocent, and that her story about her father’s death was true.
He wished it was not so, for two reasons. One, he would now feel guilty for exposing her to danger by making her spy on Victoria. And two, he could not in all conscience seduce her. Not if the betrothal was to be a sham. His body hardened in protest. He wanted her. Why was it that only women he shouldn’t want enticed him?
Virginal, innocent debutantes were not for a man with his depraved soul. He would only drag her down into the mire.
