Page 88 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

“I think ye are marvellous,” he said, meaning it, enchanted by the pleasure his words brought to her face.

“Do you?” she asked.

Ned nodded, daring to reach out and touch her hand. “So soft,” he marvelled, stroking over her skin with a fingertip.

He heard her gasp and looked up, wondering if he ought not touch her, but she was smiling at him. Ned took her hand in his and she didn’t look away from him, the smile didn’t falter. They sat that way for a moment, not speaking until Ned got up the courage to raise her hand to his lips. He kissed each finger, his heart hammering as desire held his breath captive. Lowering her hand again, he released his hold so she could draw back if she wanted, but she only slid her fingers from his grasp, and raised them to his face.

Ned held his breath, closed his eyes as her palm cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin. Thank goodness he’d troubled to shave before he came down, hating the thought of his coarse beard abrading her delicate skin. Oh God, he would die or disgrace himself if she kept touching him like this. Unable to resist, he covered her hand with his and turned his face into it. He kissed her palm as he had earlier, kissed the heel of her hand, and her wrist, where the pulse beat like butterfly wings against his lips.

He forced himself to look at her, praying his kisses had not offended her. She was breathing hard, the rapid rise and fall of her chest obvious even beneath the shapeless garment that so disguised her feminine curves. Her mouth was a little open, her blue eyes dark, and Ned felt the jolt of recognition burn a path to his cock as he saw the echo of his own desire.

“Grace,” he said, his voice low. “Grace, I know I ought not ask it but… Oh, God, love, I’m desperate to kiss ye.”

“Y-You are?”

He gave a strangled laugh at the question. “I am. Do you mind?”

She stared at him for a moment and then licked her lips. It was all he could do not to groan at the sight.

“No,” she said, her voice sure. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Come here,” he said, pushing his chair away from the table and tugging at her hand.

She got up, moving to stand in front of him, unsure of what to do.

Ned smiled and gave another gentle tug. “Please, love.”

Her eyes widened as she realised his intention, but she didn’t object, and she perched precariously on his knees. Ned reached out and touched her cheek, still astonished by the satin texture of it. She closed her eyes as he caressed her, smoothing the sleek line of an eyebrow, tracing his fingers over her cheekbone, over her jaw.

“I never saw anything so lovely in my whole life,” he said. “Will ye really wed me, lass? It doesn’t seem possible.”

A smile curved over her mouth. “I think I’d better,” she said.

Ned let his hand fall away. “Is that the only reason?” he asked, knowing it was ridiculous for him to feel such anguish at the idea. “Because you’re ruined now, because you’ve no other option?”

What a fool he was. He’d known she was desperate, that she was marrying him because she had no option, what the devil was he doing asking her such a thing?

“No,” she said, the answer dragging his heart out of the dark hole it had tumbled in and sending it soaring into the light. “No, it’s not the only reason.”

He laughed a little, incredulous but relieved, and she smiled, reaching up to trace a finger over his mouth.

“I think I should like to marry you, no matter the circumstances.”

The breath left him in a rush. “Gracie,” he said, his arms going about her and pulling her closer. “Oh, love, you’ve no idea how ye make me feel.”

“I-I think perhaps I do,” she said, laughing a little and laying her head on his shoulder.

He held her close, stroking her hair and thinking this was as close to heaven as he’d ever been in his life.

“May I kiss ye, Grace? I know we are not yet wed, and I promise not to take liberties, but… I can’t think of anything else.”

“Yes,” she said, the word breathed more than spoken, the warmth of it fluttering against his neck and sending anticipation through him like a lightning strike. “Yes, please, Ned.”