Page 38 of Distracting the Duke

The breaths had done no good. They had merely filled her senses with the masculine smell of him. Her head was swimming even more.

When she lifted her eyes to his, her lips parted in a silent plea.

And he understood instantly.

Chapter Twenty

The kiss was not sensitive or teasing. Ulvercombe’s lips met Clara’s, hard and hungry and, when his tongue gained entry and tangled with her own, she wanted the kiss to last until every iota of breath had drained from her body.

She cupped his cheeks, then buried her hands in the waving golden hair, toppling his hat to the ground. He made soft moaning noises deep in his throat, noises of pleasure, noises of need, and she discovered that she was purring in response.

That first kiss in the camera obscura had been a revelation, totally unlike Simon’s hard, dry kisses. It had fired her thoughts, and her desire—right up until now.

But this…this was different.

It was all-consuming, driven by Ulvercombe’s concentrated passion and completed by her own. His hands were on her face, cupping her cheeks, refusing to let her move away, demanding that her lips remain locked with his.

After a brief break for air and an intense study of her face, his mouth pressed upon hers once more, until it seemed as if all time had stopped, and the world was whirling in a blur about their feet, everything revolving around them and the passion they were stoking in each other.

The desire raging through her was not assuaged by the kiss. Her hunger was so strong it felt like a sickness, for which the only cure was to know more of this man’s body, to uncover more of the power he wielded, and give herself up to him entirely.

He was good. Leagues ahead of Simon. Leagues ahead of her wildest dreams of how a man might taste and feel…

Oh heavens, what was she to do?

As if he divined how lost she felt, he broke the kiss, dropped his hands to her shoulders, and stepped away to examine her face once more.

Ulvercombe aroused, tousled, and recently kissed was even more desirable to her than Ulvercombe tidy, dignified, and unattainable. In the dim light, his blue-gray eyes looked almost black, there was a hint of color in his cheeks, and his lips were moist and even more tempting than they had been before.

He was first to recover the power of speech. “Let me confess right now, I hadn’t expected that to happen. At some point in the future, perhaps, but not here and now.”

She blinked up at him. He’d expected it to happen at some point? That sounded arrogant.

Or was it just an example of him being sensitive to her needs? Either way, she’d sought the kiss, so couldn’t hold him to blame.

Clearing her throat, she said, “You thought you might kiss me at some point in the future? How presumptuous.”

“Must you always think the worst of me? No, I say it because I have believed for a long time that you need to be freed from the cage of your inhibitions. There is a passion in you, held deep, which, if left unspent, could turn to poison. Some men might think you cold, but I’ve never felt that. Your desire is like a leashed beast, and, if you permit me, I would very much like to be the man to unleash it.”

Her pulse raced. He was right, of course—her body knew it, her soul knew it.

She was a widow, he was experienced. If they could only be discreet…

“But Ellie? What about Ellie?” she whispered, her conscience pricking.

He took his hands from her shoulders and his face clouded. He was drawing away from her, becoming remote and distant. She’d clearly struck a nerve.

“What about Ellie?” he asked.

“Nothing can happen between us if you plan to marry her,” she insisted. He was a gentleman. He would accede to her protest, and that would solve her dilemma.

He shook his head as if to clear it, then bent down and picked up his hat. Her gaze followed the movement of his long fingers as he twirled it about between them before finally restoring it to his head.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “Of course you are. Nothing can happen between us. Not even in secret. Chances are we would give ourselves away by a glance or a touch. The tabbies would have a field day with us, wouldn’t they? Having only just repaired my family’s name and finances, it would be utter folly to tarnish that name again. I’m truly sorry. I meant only to warm you, to comfort you. I can’t know what Lord Tinniswood did to you, nor will I ask, but be sure, if I’d known you at that time I would have seen to it he was forced to mend his ways.”

Her shoulders drooped, whether from relief or disappointment, she couldn’t be sure. By mentioning Ellie she’d put a stop to any further amatory adventures with Ulvercombe. Which was the right thing to do.

So why did she feel as if she was drifting weightless and lost in a choppy sea?