Swept into the Rich Man's World(22)

Trying it herself, she whispered, 'This is amazing.'

Again her voice barrelled across the room in a loud echo.

'It's called the Whispering Room. In days gone by apparently it wasn't  accepted for courting couples to stand too close to one another, so  young lovers would use this room to whisper messages to one another.'

'That's so sweet.'

'I sometimes wonder what they would have said.'

As he stood and watched her something broke inside her, and she  whispered from her heart. 'They wished they could be together...they  longed for the day they could be.'

For the longest while he stared at her. Had he heard her whisper? Maybe it would be better if he hadn't.

But then he whispered back, 'You're lovely.'

He said it so gently and with such sincerity she thought her heart was going to break in two. 'You're pretty special, too.'

'I like you, Aideen Ryan.'

Had she heard right? Had she imagined it? His smile said otherwise.

Through a throat thick with bittersweet happiness she whispered, 'I like you, too, Patrick Fitzsimon.'

He walked slowly to her, and although she was leaning against the windowsill her legs began to wobble.

He came to a stop before her and she looked up into his dazzling blue  eyes. His body shifted towards her. His hand twitched at his side and at  the same time her body ached with the need for his touch.                       
       
           



       

His head moved slowly down, her heart speeding up with every inch closer  he came, until his lips landed gently on hers. His mouth moved against  hers, slowly and lightly, and she thought she might faint because it was  so tender and right.

When he pulled away from the kiss he brought his forehead to lie against  hers. His incredible blue gaze held hers. It felt as though he was  spearing her heart with the silent communication of the need of a man  for a woman.

'Would you like a tour of the grounds?'

Dazed, she whispered, 'Yes, please.'

They made their way through the extensive gardens surrounding the  chateau and a silence fell between them. She tried to keep her distance  from him, but invariably found herself swaying towards him. As she  walked along the gravelled paths, the late-evening sun warm on her skin,  she bumped against him and he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arm  about her waist. They shared a quick look and her insides tumbled to see  the desire in his hooded eyes.

She felt drunk with happiness just being there...being with him. And  every cell in her body was electrified by being so close to him. A lazy,  intoxicating tendril of physical desire coiled around her body. Her  skin felt flushed and a deep pulse resonated in her lips.

But that nagging thought that this was not reality, that she did not  belong here, continued to rumble at the back of her brain. Even as she  tried her best to ignore it.

They didn't stop walking until they reached an extensive lake with a  small island in the centre. They stopped on the pebbled beach, where a  rowing boat lay beached to one side.

He went immediately to it and pulled it towards the lake. Holding it in  the water, he called, 'Come on-what are you waiting for?'

She looked around doubtfully, wondering for a moment if it would be  allowed. But then she rushed towards the water. She pulled off her  ballet flats, held up her midi-skirt and jumped on board, giving a cry  of laughter when the boat wobbled.

Patrick strengthened his grip on her elbow, and as she sat down he  pushed the boat out further and in one fluid motion jumped on board  himself. The boat wobbled even more, but as soon as he sat opposite her  it steadied.

His oar strokes were long and even and they were quickly out in the  middle of the lake. Other than evening birdsong and the swoosh of the  oars in the water there wasn't another sound.

'This is my first time ever being out in a rowing boat.'

He looked at her incredulously. 'Seriously? How did you get to be...?'

'Twenty-eight.'

'How did you get to be twenty-eight without ever being out in a rowing boat?'

'Beats me.'

He continued to row and she tried not to stare at the way his biceps flexed with each pull of the oar.

'You'll have to have a go at rowing.'

'Really?'

'Climb over here into the centre. Try not to wobble the boat too much. I'll move to your seat.'

As she moved down the boat it began to bob precariously. She gave a  little shout of alarm and gratefully grabbed on to his outstretched arm.  As she fell forward she twisted, and ended up landing in his arms, her  bottom firmly wedged in his lap.

His hand came to rest just above her waist, its heat on the thin cotton  of her blouse sending a shiver of pleasure through her. His thighs, his  chest, as they pressed against her, felt as though they were made of  steel. Electric blue eyes met hers. Her pulse leapt. It would be so easy  to lean forward, to kiss those firm lips again. To inhale his scent.

He gave a low growl. 'If you don't climb off me in the next five seconds I won't be responsible for what I do next.'

She leapt away-and instantly regretted doing so.

After he had moved to the stern of the boat she started rowing. The boat  moved with ease and she thought with unjustified satisfaction that she  had this rowing lark immediately sussed. But then they started going in  circles, and she couldn't get the boat to go in a straight line. The  fits of giggles that accompanied her attempts weren't much help.

Opposite her, he threw his head into his hands and then looked at her with amusement.

Time and time again he demonstrated the motion she should be using, but  the boat still twisted. He suggested they swop places again but,  determined, she refused to give up.                       
       
           



       

And finally she did it. The boat went in one direction. Straight back to  shore. She didn't try to alter their course in case she started  circling again.

As they neared the small beach he moved confidently to the bow and  jumped ashore. Then he hoisted the boat on to the stones. He held her  hand as she leapt off. She knew she was grinning at him like a fool but  couldn't stop herself. She hadn't laughed so much in a very long time.

He watched her with a smile, and for a while she looked at him happily,  but her smile finally faded as his stare grew darker. He took a step  closer. Shots of awareness flew through her.

An intensity swirled in the air between them. Everything had changed  since Patrick had opened up to her last night. She felt trusted. Her  heart drummed a slow beat of deep appreciation, wonder, and attraction  to this man.

Closer and closer he came, his intense blue eyes transfixing her. Her  breath grew more rapid. Her lips pulsed with the need to feel his mouth  on hers again. Her legs grew weak.

When he was no more than an inch from her, she was the first to give in.  Her body swayed and she fell against his hardness. Her hands curled  around his biceps. Against her thumb, which rested at the side of his  chest, she could feel his heartbeat, which was pounding even faster than  hers.

'I didn't ask before, so I should this time round. Can I kiss you?'

Her heart stuttered at his question. It was the sweetest thing anyone  had ever said to her. Even if she'd wanted to there was no way she could  pull away from him-from his warm breath, the overwhelming pull of his  hard body, the dizzying inhalation of his scent.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, closed her eyes, and gave a small sigh of assent as she pulled his lips down to hers.

Whereas their earlier kiss had been slow and sweet, tentative and  testing, this kiss was instantly intense, wild. Their hands explored  each other's bodies with hunger. It was a kiss that might easily become a  lot more.

She was quickly losing herself.

As one, they pulled away at the same time. As though they both knew it might quickly spiral into something neither wanted...yet.

She pressed a hand to her swollen lips and blushed. She had to hide how  much he affected her. Because in truth she was close to tears...of  happiness and despair.

'I'll tell you this much, Patrick Fitzsimon, you certainly haven't  forgotten how to kiss in all that time you've been locked away in your  office.'

He looked at her with amusement. 'Glad to hear it.'

But then dark need flared in his eyes and her insides melted.

'I want you, Aideen.'

Her heart felt as if it was going to burst right out of her chest. She  so desperately wanted to say Yes, please and not give a thought to the  consequences. But it wasn't that simple.

'Are you sure? Won't it...complicate things?'

His hand came to rest on her cheek and he gazed at her solemnly while  his thumb stroked her skin. 'I like you. A lot. It doesn't have to be  complicated. I promise you, no game playing. But if this is not right  for you I'll back off.'

No! She didn't want that.

His touch, his scent, the magnetic pull of his body might be making her  head reel so much that she could barely formulate a thought, but she  knew that much. She didn't want this to end.