Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Softening the kiss as her legs trembled, he pulled back enough to see her eyes. She watched him, unsure what was the right course for her. Did she pretend it didn’t happen? Did she ask for another kiss? Walk away and leave him alone for the rest of her time here with him and his family?
“You’re one hell of a dangerous woman, Miss Fletcher.”
She’d expected him to move away. Perhaps set her from him and put a respectable distance between them. He didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even release her.
“I hardly think so.” She lowered her gaze but Bryn nudged her chin up so they were once again locked in staring.
“I know so.” His grip on her hip flexed. “And I’m right, so you can’t argue with me.”
“I’m allowed to argue with you and will do so when you deserve it. Which, if you were asking, is all the time.”
He dipped his head and claimed her mouth once more. With a purr, she followed his instruction as before and opened when he asked for entrance. His hand gripped her ass and brought her core tighter to him. She loved being there, feeling the full length of his shaft against her.
“We need to talk.”
She couldn’t fake the struggle to open her eyes. His kisses had put her somewhere she had no desire to return from. However, those words were enough to pull her back to the cold reality of standing outside in winter.
Humor lit his expression as he shook his head. “I should stay far away from you, lioness, but I can’t. Even though I know it’s the smart choice for both of us.”
“What are we talking about?”
It hurt, deep down, that she was the one between them thinking about the future with him and how amazing it would be if she could be his wife. But Rosamunde knew what lay in wait for her. It wasn’t this man, no matter how much she wished it would be, so she tamped down the hurt. She needed to have this man help her achieve her dreams before she became shackled to an old man who would control her life.
He nipped her lip again before brushing a kiss over her forehead. “Not going to argue about that with me?”
“Of course not. I know you are leaving. It’s pointless for me to think about forming an attachment to you. I’m pragmatic. Even if you were remaining in England, I’m spoken for, which means had you been interested in a woman like me, it wouldn’t happen.”
His jaw flexed.
“What do you mean? A woman like you?”
“We don’t need to pretend I’m the size of most women in society, Bryn. I know I’m not and it’s okay. I’ve been larger my entire life. I’m not the kind of woman you find attractive.”
He growled. Honestly growled at her.
She stepped back.
He furrowed his brow, thick eyebrows slashing together. “Really?” He grabbed her arm. “You step back from that but let me kiss you without a chaperone around?”
“You’re not making sense, Bryn.”
He tipped his head back, allowing her the rare chance to run her focus along the strong column of his neck. The corded muscle. Taut, bronzed skin she longed to sink her teeth into. Rosamunde wanted to mark him. Wanted to leave it perfectly clear to all the other women who looked at him with lust from below lowered lashes that this man was taken. By her.
She shifted her weight and, like a shot, his focus slammed into her once more. Without speaking, he walked her backward off the bridge and right up to the tall tree she’d been imagining in spring or summer with its incredible foliage. Now it had branches covered in ice and frost that glinted as if they’d been covered in diamond dust. The wind slid through them, reminding her that this wasn’t the best weather to be outside in.
“Listen to me, Rosamunde Fletcher.” A deep breath. “My lioness, brave and bold except when it comes to her own beauty.”
She flattened her lips and stared over his shoulder, the intimate connection becoming too much for her weakened heart.
“Look at me,” he rumbled.
Unable to disobey, she capitulated to his demand. Such frank hunger swam there she nearly glanced away again simply to preserve the small bit of strength she retained. He didn’t let her go. Not physically and not their visual connection either.
“You are a fucking stunning woman. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool.”
The graveled admission made her knees weak and she flexed her hands, too late realizing they were still wound securely in his coat. He inched nearer to her, cutting off her air as his cock settled between her legs, a spot she desperately longed to feel him without the barriers of clothing between them.
Nose to nose, he briefly closed his eyes only to open them again.