Paying the Virgin's Price (Regency Silk & Scandal #2)(38)

'We mustn't,' she managed, after a few more delicious moments. But the tone hinted that, while she was sure she mustn't, she wished for much more.

'Do not worry,' he whispered. 'We won't. Not yet, at any rate. But do not blame me too much for doing this.' He pulled her close to kiss the side of her throat, turning her so that he could reach the nape of her neck, and he felt her ribs moving under his fingers, for the kisses to her throat made her breath release in shallow gasps. 'And do not fault me for wanting to take down your hair, so that I might run my fingers through it. To see it free as it lies on the pillow, and tousled as it is when first you wake.' He touched her very gently, so as not to disturb her coiffure. The silken smoothness of it made his fingers itch for more. 'Maybe I could take a single pin. It could be a curl blown loose by the wind, or caught in a ribbon and disarranged. An accident. Nothing more. But no. Once I start, I will not be able to stop.'

For he was sure it would not be enough to take down her hair. Next he would be laying her down in the new grass, and begging to make love to her where they could smell the first scents of spring. It would be sweet disaster, but it would bind her to him in ways that would make her rejection impossible, should she learn the truth of his character.

He made to release her, for her good and the sake of his own sanity. But she reached up and took him by the chin, squirming against him until she could force his lips to meet hers. She rewarded him with the kiss he longed to give her: open mouthed and passionate, innocent and inexperienced. Utterly delightful.

And so, he gave himself up to the pleasure and did not release her until he had marked every bit of her mouth as his. He heard the distant thump of her bonnet dropping to the ground and let his empty hands move over her, from shoulders to back to bottom, moulding her body to his, feeling the pressure building within him.

She should struggle, or argue or give some sign that she wished him to stop. If she did not, he did not know if he would be able to save them both from this madness. But instead, she wrapped her arms about his waist, clinging to him, letting him support her as he took all he wanted.

It was her total surrender to him that gave him the strength to break the kiss and push her gently away. He shook his head as he smiled to reassure her, then gave a quick look about them, to be sure that they were still alone. 'Oh, my sweet, I am foolish to risk you in this way. What will you think of me, when your head clears enough to realize how we have carried on?' He reached down and picked up her bonnet, which was looking rather scuffed after being crushed between them and then cast upon the ground.

She took it, and concentrated on straightening the flowers and fluffing the lone feather, and he wondered what had hurt her, his forwardness or the suddenness of his rejection? 'It is perfectly all right, Mr Dale. I was well aware of what I was doing.'

He scoffed. 'Throwing yourself away on a wastrel, without care for your reputation. And the only defence I can offer is that you have bewitched me with your beauty, Miss Price. One disapproving quirk of those very proper lips and I am lost to all propriety. I must have them. I must have you. I swear, the frown on your face right now is more delightful than a hundred smiles from another woman.'

There was the slightest smile on her lips as she finished with the bonnet, which he feared would never be quite the same, and placed it back on her head, tying it in a firm bow. 'Your praise would be more convincing, Nathan, if it were not so fulsome.'

He leaned back against the building, eyes closed and hands behind his head, and laughed, waiting for the beat of his heart to slow and his reason to return. 'Thank you, dear Lord, she is calling me Nathan again.' He opened an eye and peered at her. 'And smiling. The blush on that cheek is more perfect than any rose.' Then he said, softly and slowly, so that she might believe him, 'Forgive me my excessive praise. I have never been in love before, and I am rather at a loss as to how to go on.'

Love. He had said the word aloud to her, and now he would see what she made of it. Suddenly afraid, he went on talking, leaving her no time to respond. 'Give me time. I will grow into it, I am sure. And I will find a manner of praising you that suits your practical and modest nature. If you prefer, I will compliment you on your generous heart and your excellent manners, and remain silent with my suspicions that you are Venus herself, hiding behind a prim facade.' He patted the pocket that held the journal. 'When this is taken care of, we will have no need to sneak about in the woods, stealing kisses and tempting fate. I will take you away with me. And when I do, I mean to keep you safe and make you happy. I will make it right again, you shall see.'

She looked puzzled at his last words. And he realized that they made no sense. For why would Nathan Dale wish to make amends for her past, if he'd had no part in it? He waited to see if she understood. If she questioned him, he would tell her the truth and go where it led.

Instead, she said, 'I would like that very much.'

He was still free of the past, if there was freedom in hiding. But what did it matter, as long as she wanted him? And while she had not offered love in words, he had heard the truth in the response of her body to his. It would be all right between them, somehow. He smiled at her. 'I have much work to do. To secure our future.' He reached out for her, kissing her fingertips before linking her arm with his. 'Will you allow me to escort you home, Miss Price?'

'Gladly, sir.'