Untouched - Page 90

“I’m not playing fair, my love. I’m playing to win.”

Furious denial surged. She wouldn’t let him do this. “Two can play at that game.”

She gripped his head between shaking hands and dragged him down until his mouth met hers. She’d tried to seduce him against his will before and failed, but now she knew how vulnerable he was to her.

He didn’t fight, but his lips remained closed and his arms hung resolutely by his sides.

She wasn’t going to let him win.

She curled her arms around his back, pressing herself brazenly to his lean form. Against her breasts, his heart pounded, belying his veneer of control. She had to break that control then she had to break him. Anything to make him abandon his cruel plan to exile her.

Desperately, she licked and nibbled at his lips, nipping his bottom lip until he opened his mouth. Her tongue darted into the dark interior, then lingered to taste and torment. He groaned deep in his throat and finally kissed her back, answering each incursion of her tongue with his. He hauled her up in a furious embrace and took charge. She could no longer tell who was the aggressor. His kiss held the same frantic passion she’d felt last night when she lay in his arms. She closed her eyes while heat and darkness engulfed her.

“Jesus, Grace!” Abruptly the kiss ended. “This proves nothing!”

She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her with turbulent despair. He tried to step back but she caught one of his hands before he could move away.

“Can you live without this?” she asked in a guttural voice. Without finesse, she shoved his palm against her breast. Her nipple immediately tautened to a yearning point under his hand. “Or this?” Roughly, she reached forward to cup the front of his trousers. He was already hard and eager. She stroked his sex and felt him swell under her touch.

Once she’d never have summoned courage to do this. Love made her bold. And desperate.

Briefly, he resisted then the hand on her breast curved to shape her flesh. She sighed and leaned into the familiar sweetness.

“No!” he said hoarsely, tearing himself away to stand a few feet distant. “I can’t live with the fact that you’re in danger.” A hectic flush marked his prominent cheekbones and a muscle twitched spasmodically near his jaw.

She wrapped her arms around herself to counter the chill slowing her blood. “You can’t fight this,” she said in a frantic rush. “You can’t fight me. I know you too well.”

“Yes, you do.” He raised a hand to prevent her headlong flight back into his arms. “Do you want to turn what we feel into a weapon? We’ll end up destroying one another.”

“I can’t leave you.” She wanted to sound strong, invincible, but the words emerged as a choked plea. “Don’t make me go.”

His face contracted with pain. “Let me save you, Grace. Give me this one gift.” Then in a low shaking voice, “For God’s sake, allow me this if nothing else. I have nothing else.”

His last bleak statement cut through her resistance like a knife through butter. She fought back tears. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry.

Acrid shame flooded her. Her defiance tortured him to his limits and he’d already borne so much. She expelled her breath on a

muffled sob. “You break my heart.”

He understood immediately that she’d acknowledged his right to banish her. He stepped forward to take her in his arms. “I wish to God it could be otherwise, my darling.”

“When I’m free, I’ll get you out of here,” she said fiercely, tilting her head so she could see his face. It sliced her to her soul to leave him, but what else could she do?

His expression was stark with sorrow. “Grace, forget me. If my uncle traces you, our efforts are for naught.”

“I won’t abandon you.”

“You have to,” he said with bitter finality. “It’s your only chance.”

“No,” she said just as obstinately. Before he could argue, and she knew he’d argue, she rushed on. “When do I go?”

“Tomorrow.”

No.

Horrified, she jerked free. “You can’t mean it!”

She’d only just reconciled herself to leaving. One more day? She couldn’t bear it.

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
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