“You had every right to be furious with me,” Emma said. “I deceived you, and it is only natural that you would feel horribly ill used. I can only say again that it was never my intention to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me for that much at least.”
He stepped closer and met the vivid blue of her eyes. “Anything there may have been to forgive, I have done so long ago. Now, will you tell me something?”
“What?”
“Why did you give your innocence to me that night? You never said, and I find that I must know.”
The breath stilled inside Emma’s lungs, her heart ceasing to beat for a moment. “The reason doesn’t matter now.”
He laid his hands on her shoulders. “I think it matters very much. Tell me, Emma. Why?”
Tears suddenly stung her eyes; one teardrop escaped and rolled traitorously down her cheek.
He reached up a thumb and wiped it away. “Tell me,” he urged again, leaning down to brush his mouth over her damp skin.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I do not dare.”
“Why? We were good friends while we were together—more than friends. I think you know that you may tell me anything.”
She shook her head, her heart thundering in her ears. “Not this. It is too late.”
“No, I refuse to believe that. Say it, Emma. Tell me why you chose to surrender your innocence. Why you let me be the first…”
More tears filled her eyes, and she trembled, suddenly unable to hold anything back. “Because I loved you.”
A fierce light flared in his eyes. “And now? How do you feel now?”
A shudder chased over her skin, leaving her hot and cold at the same time. She knew she should refuse to say what was in her heart. Of all the times to lie, this was the one.
But she could not.
How could she when he must surely see the truth shining in her eyes?
“The weeks apart have not altered my feelings or my love,” she confessed.
“Nor mine,” he said in a reverential voice. “I love you too, Emma. Whatever obstacles may lie between us, never doubt my love.”
Before she could make so much as a sound, his mouth came down on hers and crushed her lips with an ardor so fiery it could not be contained.
She kissed him back, pouring all her passion, all the love and longing she had tried so hard not to show into their embrace. Reaching up, she looped her arms around his neck and arched closer still.
Wanting him.
Wanting everything.
She breathed in the warm masculine scents of brandy and linen starch that lingered on his skin and clothes. Letting her eyes slide closed, she savored each delectable sensation, every intoxicating caress.
She’d thought she remembered the exquisite joy of his kiss, but now that she was with him again she knew her memories were nothing but a weak counterfeit when compared with the reality. His touch, his taste, the shape and feel of his mouth and hands and body were as close to heaven as a human being could dare hope to know. Refusing to think of all that stood between them, she deepened their kiss, opening her mouth in a bold invitation of mutual passion and sweet surrender.
He answered her siren’s call, his tongue both daring and clever against her own. She tried to match the fervid intensity of his kisses, but he was her master, doing things that made her muscles turn as soft and pliable as sculptor’s clay.
Lost in the heated, heady beauty of his touch, she traced a hand along the strong line of his neck. Slowly, with a kind of dreamy reverence, she threaded her fingers into the dark satin of his hair and played there. Caressing his scalp, she leaned deeper into the protective curve of his arms.
His kisses took an even more potent turn, each rapturous slide of his lips and moist glide of his tongue more enthralling than the last. She trembled with need, with jubilation, with unquenchable love.
Abruptly Nick tore his mouth from hers, visibly striving to regulate his breathing. She tried to draw him back, but he took her hand and pressed a kiss against the soft flesh of her palm. “Marry me, Emma.”
She stilled, certain she could not have heard him right. “W-what?”
“Marry me,” he repeated. “I love you and you just said that you love me. Whatever impediments exist beyond that we can overcome together.”
Her throat closed tight as if it were caught inside a noose. She hadn’t thought it was possible for her heart to break again, the fragile organ had been shattered so many times before. But a new fracture formed, a piece shearing off, as dearly wished dreams collided with reality.
“You know I cannot,” she told him, making no effort to conceal her anguish. “I am to be betrothed.” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.