Page 31 of Twice Upon a Midnight

He said nothing for a long moment, and when he finally did, his voice was strained and husky. “What I think you’re suggesting… You can’t—wecan’t.”

She nearly laughed to see him so flustered. Thank God she wasn’t the only one who was nervous! “I’m pretty sure we can.” Her stomach wasn’t filled with fluttering butterflies—there was an entire storm-tossed sea churning away there. But the thought of letting this magical night pass without confiding in him how much she loved him, if only to show him with her body what she couldn’t put into words—simply unbearable. “Especially when you seem to know so much about sneaking in and out of ladies’ bedchambers.”

“I would never treat you like.”

“I know.” She dropped her gaze to her hand as she began to caress the satin of his waistcoat. “And that’s why I want… I mean, I trust you to not…” Oh, she was bungling this so badly! She took a deep breath and threw caution to the wind. “I want you to make love to me.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, his expression pained. “I can’t.”

“Because you don’t want to be forced to marry me afterward?” she guessed in a soft whisper. “I wouldn’t force you to.”Although I would sincerely hope you would want to, and that you love me as much as I’ve grown to love you, that you want to spend the rest of your life with me, too… But she had too much pride to utter that aloud. “I’m a grown woman and not some foolish goose of a girl. I know what happens between men and women—I did live in France for several years, you know—and I would take full responsibility for anything that—”

“I don’t want to ruin you.”

Nervous worry bubbled inside her, and she deflected with forced humor, “But that’s the whole idea.”

He sent her a narrowed glance void of all humor. “Not in that way.”

“In what way, then?”

“Ruinyou, in every sense of the word, not just by taking your innocence.”

She feared she was losing him, even while he lay less than a foot away. “What do you mean?”

He sat up, raked fingers through his hair, and bit back a curse a second too late, letting her hear most of it. “I don’t want to sully you, Ella. I will only make you dirty. I’ll stain and smudge you. You’re light and bright—everything good. Everything I don’t deserve. I could only ruin that.”

“I’m not some kind of pure angel.” Shaking her head, she sat up beside him and rested her hand on his bicep, almost beseechingly. “But you…I’ve seen the real you in all your letters and the thoughtful gifts you’ve sent, in the poetry you’ve given me. A man with a dark heart would never have done anything like that.” She squeezed his arm. “You could never sully me.”

Frustration pulsed from him so intensely she could feel it. “Don’t you understand? I don’t wear gloves because I’m a gentleman who wants to show off his expensive clothes. I wear them to hide who I am. My hands are marred from work—”

She took his hand and placed it on her breast, then murmured, “Your hands are perfect.”

He tensed, for a moment frozen like a statue. But her heart pounded so hard she knew he could feel its beat beneath his palm.

And then, she felt it…the small movement of his fingers as they lightly caressed her.

Joy surged through her. Whispering his name, she arched her back to bring her breast harder against his hand.

With a low groan of surrender, he kissed her. There was none of the languidness of before, no slow teasing of lips that cajoled her into increasing the intimacy. This time, his kiss was hungry and demanding, and his mouth captured hers in a hot kiss that made her tremble from its intensity. There was no tentative touching of tongues; this time, he simply ravished her mouth, thrusting deep inside and drawing a soft moan of need from her.

He lowered her onto her back and followed down beside her, never breaking the kiss. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck because she refused to let him slip away from her now, and her hold on him remained secure even when she finally tore her mouth away from his to catch back the breath he’d stolen. But even then he sparked tingles through her by sliding his mouth down to her neck, nipping at her throat and flicking the tip of his tongue against the racing pulse in the hollow at the base of her neck, as if he simply could not have enough of her. As if to prove that, his hands slipped down her front, unbuttoned her coat, and pushed it open.

Holding himself over her on one forearm, he gazed down at her. The corners of his mouth curled to find her wearing her night rail instead of a dress. “You lied to me.”

Her heart skipped. “I never—”

“You said you weren’t an angel,” he murmured.

“I’m—I’m not.” The trembling in her body reached her voice.

“Then you simply look like one.” He lightly caressed his hand over the soft cotton and even softer curves beneath. “All soft and warm, white and clean…”

“But a bit wanton, too,” she whispered and reached up to untie the bow at her neck. She didn’t want to be pure and angelic; she simply wanted to be loved for herself. That included the very scandalous thoughts now spinning through her head of what they might do together in the shadows.

He chuckled softly. “Just a bit.”

She held her breath as he gently tugged the soft cotton out of the way and bared her bosom to his eyes. Her nipples tightened into hard little points in the cool night air, aching when he circled each with his fingertip.

“‘She walks in beauty like the night…’ Youarebeautiful, Ella. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, because you possess a beautiful mind and soul.”