Nicholas started to shake his head in protest, but at an elbow from Ralph, he bit back his confusion and hesitations.
“Get on with ye, my dear boy.” Father Fritz motioned between Sybil and him. “Do it now before I change my mind and make you wait.” Or before he suggested something else entirely inappropriate and embarrassed everyone present.
Nicholas pivoted slowly toward Sybil.
She stared straight ahead, her back rigid.
Maybe she’d never shared a kiss with a man. And maybe she was afraid.
He lifted a hand and brushed at the hair on her shoulder. He’d show her that she had nothing to fear. Especially from him.
She flicked a gaze at him but didn’t turn.
He slid his hand deeper into her hair. As his fingers tangled in the thick waves of silk, a swift rush of heat pulsed through him. Guiding her head around with one hand, he slipped the other to the small of her back. As his fingers flattened in the hollow spot just below her waist, he allowed his other hand to graze her neck.
She sucked in a short breath, one that only pumped more heat into his blood and turned his body taut with need.
How was this simple interaction able to set kindling aflame within him—at least flames on his end?
She stood still, her eyes now fixed upon his mouth, as though she was preparing herself for more.
He would give her more. Heaven help him, but he would show her exactly how much more could exist between them when she was ready for it.
As though she was the sunlight he needed after a dark winter, he pressed against her and fused his mouth with hers, basking in the rays and luxuriating in her warm sweetness.
She hesitated for a moment, then rose on her toes. As she opened her lips and kissed him back, there was nothing timid or uncertain or fearful in her response. Just as there was nothing timid or uncertain or fearful about her. Instead, she was a bright light, breaking through all the cracks in his broken soul. She poured in a delicious blaze that spilled through the shards and spread all throughout his chest.
“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” Beatrice’s voice cut through the haze that had wrapped around Nicholas and drawn him against Sybil more fully so that he could feel her curves and the rapid thud of her heartbeat.
She broke away first, almost shoving him back. As she spun to face Father Fritz, a flush marked her cheeks. Her eyes were wide, as though the kiss had taken her by surprise. And shepressed her fingers to her lips—lips that were moist and swollen and made for him to kiss.
He had the overwhelming urge to grasp her and kiss her again. The need rocked him, and he tore his attention away from her lest he give way to it and embarrass himself in front of the village.
Father Fritz’s eyes were round, and he swallowed hard. “Well, now. After watching that, I think we’re all needing a cloudburst of cold rain to be dousing the heat.”
Laughter rang out around them.
“Continue with the vows, Father,” Ralph barked. “They’re ready now.”
“Wagging dog tails, ye be right about that.”
More laughter followed.
Nicholas wanted to reassure Sybil that the jesting was all in fun and she needn’t worry. But the moment he glanced at her, his attention went straight to her mouth.
She was nibbling at her lower lip.
Saint’s blood. He wanted to be the one nibbling her lip. But he crossed his arms to keep from grabbing her and taking her lower lip his prisoner.
Father Fritz was grinning like he planned to jump into a song and a dance. But Ralph clamped a hand down on him, pinning him in place.
“The vows, Father.”
Father Fritz held up the prayer book, which somehow was upside down. He cleared his throat to speak, dropped his attention to the page, then squinted in confusion.
With a heavy sigh, Ralph rotated the book.
Father Fritz peered at it again and nodded solemnly. “Nicholas, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keepher, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”