Page 59 of The Blacksmith

He had to stop her now. Grabbing her hand, he spun her around and pinned her to the wall behind them. Knowing they were hidden from view, he took her mouth in a passionate kiss, claiming her in the only way he could.

Even though he pressed against her, Lance knew she must feel very little through the layers of her gown, but he didn’t dare lift it. The urge to be inside her was too great. He could make her come again, but it seemed an empty gesture. She deserved more than a quick release.

She deserved everything.

“I would be inside you,” he whispered in her ear before nipping it with his teeth. “I would bury myself so deep, we would be as one.”

He kissed behind her ear, emboldened by each exhale, her heavy breathing matching his own.

“I would make love to you, sweet Idalia, and show you what a valuable treasure you are.”

She gripped the fabric of his shirt.

“If you were mine, I would love you with my mouth,” he continued.

He pulled back, realizing she didn’t understand. Perversely, he wanted her to. Wanted her to spend each night imagining all the things they might do to each other if they were free to do as they wished. It was how he’d spent his nights since coming to Stanton.

“Aye, I would taste you there.” He glanced down to the apex of her legs, his meaning unmistakable this time.

“Surely not.”

She was surprised, but intrigued. If only he could show her.

What in God’s teeth are you doing? She’s not for the likes of you, you fool.

“I shouldn’t have said such a thing.”

“Why?” She stepped back, and Lance had never been so grateful. Near her, he could not think. Could not reason. When he was with Idalia, the world fell away.

“You know why. I am a smith. You are an earl’s daughter.”

“Whose mother condoned . . . whatever this is. Tell me, Lance. What is this, between us?”

If only he knew. He only understood he couldn’t stay away from her.

“Your words earlier, they mean nothing?”

“Your father—”

“Does not know you. Not as I do.”

“You know little of me,” he said, thinking of the order. The secrets he held might change her mind about him. They might make her regret what she’d said and shared. He thought again of his friends, and of everything they stood to lose should the Earl of Stanton refuse to support their cause.

He needed to speak with the man, to know his mind.

“I know you’ve been hurt,” she said, her eyes shining. “I know you treat your apprentices as if they were your sons. Their mother can speak of little else but you. And I know when I’m with you, I feel . . .”

“Stop.”

He’d asked her to stop, but when she did, Lance desperately wanted to know what she’d intended to say. He nearly asked her to finish.

But duty bound him, and so he did what he must.

“Introduce me to your father.”

She misunderstood, of course. Took it as a sign of encouragement for them, when it was just the opposite.

The smile she gave Lance made him feel as if he’d fallen into the forge’s fire. His chest burned with the truth. Not for the first time, he thought to tell her all. Perhaps she would understand? Perhaps her father might even surprise them both with his acceptance of the match?