Page 40 of Healing the Duke's Desires
But before she could do what she had planned, the door swung open and she realized that someone had followed her here—someone she had secretly been wanting to speak to all evening.
“I couldn’t wait for my turn to congratulate you on a magnificent performance,” Alexander said, closing the door behind him.
Emily was only startled for a moment by this unexpected intrusion. She must have beckoned him here with the sheer power of her thoughts, of her unspoken desires.
“Did you like it?” she asked, as a blush crept across her cheeks, her heart racing even faster now, and it was not because of the element of surprise.
He took a step closer to her before replying. “That would be an understatement.” His voice had a deep, velvety timbre that resonated with her in a way that made her not trust herself with him alone. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone play with such passion before.”
“You are very kind to say so,” she managed to reply, her voice laden with appreciation and shyness. “I was a bit nervous, to be honest.”
“Why?” he asked. “With such talent, you ought to be more confident.”
She shrugged a little helplessly. “Confidence is not something I can boast, I’m afraid.”
“You should be the most confident young lady in all of London,” he announced gravely, as if he were writing a law that ought to be obeyed at any cost.
She couldn’t help but chuckle at this, and she didn’t even notice that slowly, he was approaching her, getting closer and closer.
“That is hardly the case,” she pointed out.
“But it should be so,” he rectified for her, as he was taking dominion of her personal space without her even noticing it. “You are intelligent, well-read, mannered, polite and kind, and you play the pianoforte beautifully.”
“Goodness me, all those compliments.” She chuckled again, but mostly because she was even more nervous now than in front of all those people. But one look in his direction assured her there was nowhere else she would rather be than right here, with him.
“Well deserved, I assure you,” he continued.
“I am just a simple girl.” She shook her head.
Who’s madly in love with you,she wanted to add but managed to bite her tongue in time. Maybe he already knew that. The thought was as frightening as it was gripping.
“There is nothing simple about you.” His words were deep, meaningful, and she knew that, whether for better or worse, she would never forget them. “What makes you play so beautifully?”
How on earth could she tell him the truth, that he was the inspiration for every single note she played? That it was he who kept her up at night while she dreamed of his touches, of his kisses? Once more, she felt a rush of blood to her cheeks, and not only there, but also down her chest, her stomach, to that secret, hidden palpitating place between her thighs.
Without waiting for her to reply, he took another step, as the space between them grew smaller and smaller. Her breath caught in her throat. It was difficult to focus on having a conversation with him so close, so kissable.
“Inspiration,” she managed to muster.
“Whatisyour inspiration, Emily?” The moonlight illuminated his features, highlighting his square jaw and the deep intensity in his eyes.
Goodness, he is breathtaking,she thought, unable to stop staring at him.
Their eyes locked, and the charged energy in the room seemed to intensify. It was as if the air itself was thick with implicit emotions, desires that hovered on the precipice of just being acknowledged. Emily’s heart pounded in her chest, the allure of the moment enveloping her completely. She couldn’t control herself any longer.
“The better question is… who,” she corrected him, placing her hand gently on his cheek. He felt warm against her skin as the ache of attraction and the thrill of the forbidden mingled, creating a heady concoction that threatened to undo them both.
“Who?” he echoed, his lips rounding, and she wanted to taste them again. Longer, deeper, wetter. The fact that they were not safe here, that the risk of being found out was enormous, did not bother her in the slightest. They were lost in the moment, where only the two of them existed.
“While I played, all I could think about was our kiss, Alexander,” she whispered, her voice sultry. She pronounced his name as if it belonged to her, as if everything he had belonged to her. “I thought about how much I want to kiss you again—because our kiss was magical, and it was far from a mistake.”
All these words rushed out of her like an unstoppable avalanche, her conscious mind knowing full well that if she stopped even for a single moment to think about what she was saying, fear would take over and those important words would never be said at all.
His eyes spoke more than words ever could. She could see that her confession had surprised him, although he must have followed her here for the same reason. She could see no other explanation for them both being here, away from the commotion of the musicale. It was as if they were searching for each other in that crowd and now, finally, they had found who they were looking for.
Without thinking, their lips crashed against each other like the sea crashed against the rocky shores, a culmination of the charged atmosphere that had completely taken over them both.
***
