Cold Comfort (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 5)

“What are we doing here?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Emmeline replied honestly.

She wished could tell him something, anything, or try to laugh off the strengthening awareness that shimmered between them, but everything that flew into her head immediately flew back out again. No action felt right. No words seemed appropriate. In the end, nothing was necessary because she was rendered mute by Oliver’s lips, which settled over hers with a gentleness that stole her breath as effectively as they stole her thoughts.

Oliver slid his arms around her, drawing her closer against the muscular width of his chest. His lips pressed against hers with passionate fervour until Emmeline followed his persuasive coaxing and opened her mouth to his. He instinctively deepened the kiss even though every instinct he had ever possessed warned him to back away; to make his apologies and leave. Oliver knew he should; he ought to because this was the most unprofessional thing he had ever done in his life. What he didn’t know was why he should feel such desire for Emmeline, and why now of all times and places. The Star Elite were facing possibly the most difficult investigation they could ever have to take on, not least because there was a very direct threat coming from within their organisation. It wasn’t the time to indulge in a romance that could alter the course of his life forever. With that thought in mind, Oliver tried to lift his head to apologise for his waywardness, but when he did, Emmeline clung to him tighter and he couldn’t release her.

Emmeline slid her hands up the soft material of his waistcoat until they rested against the open neck of his shirt. At some point during their tussling the material had worked free of his breeches, and now billowed loosely around his lean hips. Every now and then, as a gentle breeze teased the flowing material, Emmeline caught a faint scent of lemons and something that was quintessentially Oliver. It was so faint, so teasing, that she clung to him tighter to savour more of it; more of him. She wanted him with a need that appeared out of nowhere and was so elementally a part of her that all she could do was consider it while she tried to understand what she should do about it. All the while she was contemplating the strange emotions that coursed through her; the rawness of the need for him, the hidden yearning deep within the pit of her stomach, the more she needed to experience, just so she could understand it. She needed him; of that she knew for certain. She wanted him, but for what purpose she didn’t know yet. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted any deeper connection with anybody. After all, everyone she had ever loved had died on her. She didn’t want to open her heart up to anybody else and have them leave as well, and with Oliver’s dangerous job that was more likely to happen to him than anyone else. He was, after all, the kind of person who put his life in danger to protect others.

Dare she take the risk of being hurt by allowing herself to care about him? Could she be strong enough to allow a relationship to develop knowing that one day, someone might stop him from ever coming back? Even while Emmeline knew the answer to both of those questions was a resounding ‘no’, she couldn’t find the will to break free of him and walk away. It was impossible, especially when he had opened a hidden need within her she hadn’t realised she was capable of feeling. She wanted him. Was it so wrong to enjoy this moment while it lasted? Was it so wrong to savour the feel of being in his arms; being the sole focus of a man’s desire? Was it so wrong to live a little and shake off the restraints of modern society and simply be a woman for a while rather than a helpless female? Was it wrong to be a woman who lived her own life, in her own home, in her own way?

What Emmeline did know for definite was that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she rejected him and spent her life regretting it. She had very little in her life as it was. Would it matter if her romance with Oliver was fleeting? Would it matter if he left her when his investigation was over, but didn’t return because his work and life persuaded him to stay away? She could get on with her own life. She knew that because she already had.

He is a luxury I didn’t think I would ever be able to afford, she mused.

Because he had appeared in her life so unexpectedly, it would be churlish to refuse to enjoy the delight of being in his arms like this, wouldn’t it? That was all the persuasion Emmeline needed. It was enough to make her tighten her arms where they lay across his shoulders, drawing him deeper into their embrace and their kiss.

There was little

Oliver could do to resist her. With a groan, he slid his hands down to her bottom and lifted her onto her tiptoes, pressing her intimately against him to remind her that theirs was a relationship that would progress if they didn’t exert a little caution; if she didn’t tell him stop. Contrarily, Emmeline revelled in her new found feminine power created by their romantic tryst. She had never felt so alive before, and it gave her the strength she needed to shake off her doubts and forge ahead, wherever that would take her.

Passion flared to life between them and encased them both in the roaring flames of desire. Swept away on a sensual train of delight, they were both propelled into a new connection and deeper intimacy. The more the flames flickered at their feet, the more they stood as one, merged together forever.

“Ahem.”

At first, Oliver didn’t hear him.

“Ahem.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, that soft word echoed and nudged his consciousness back into the present.

“Ahem.”

This time, the word was considerably more forced, and strong enough to make Oliver ease back on the kiss. Rather than lift his head, he slowly retreated, reducing the long and seductive persuasion into more supping kisses which teased and reassured Emmeline that they hadn’t finished completely but were suspended. Eventually, Oliver lifted his head, but only so he could stare down at the woman who practically lay in his arms. At some point during their passionate embrace, Emmeline had been gently eased backward until she lay over his arm. He hovered over her for several moments more before he slowly stood up whereupon he kept her against him until he was sure she had her balance.

Emmeline clung to him, her cheeks fiery with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment when she realised that they were no longer alone. While they had been savouring each other’s desire, Harry and Rhys had not only ridden into the yard but had dismounted and tethered their horses.

“God, what in the Hell are we doing?” Oliver whispered, more to himself than to Emmeline, who looked just as stunned as he felt. He couldn’t be annoyed with her because what they had shared had been a mutual affair. They had both engaged in the embrace willingly and savoured the delights on offer with an eagerness neither had been able to hide.

I am as much at fault over it as she is.

“Ahem.”

“Yes, God damn it, I know you are there,” Oliver growled.

Without releasing her, Oliver looked over his shoulder at his colleagues who still stood beside their horses and were doing their level best to pretend they were somewhere else. Every now and then, Rhys snuck a look at them over his shoulder while Harry coughed discretely.

Emmeline’s cheeks turned even pinker. She slid a look at Oliver only to find him already looking at her ruefully.

“I am sorry about them. If they had any sense they would have gone inside and pretended they hadn’t seen us. However, now that they have watched everything, there is no use hiding what we have done. They will not tease you over it. It just changes things a little, that’s all,” he explained.

“How?”

“It makes things personal, Emmeline,” Oliver sighed.

Far more personal than I would have liked, but there you go.

Emmeline studied him and felt something in her chest squeeze painfully. The reluctance in his voice hurt. It smarted because she didn’t want to feel anything for this man who was going to ride out of her life, and who quite clearly bitterly regretting having kissed her so passionately. Pride refused to allow her to let him see just how much his regret hurt, though. It made her square her shoulders and tip her chin up defiantly at him. Unbeknown to her, there was little she could do about the clouds that gathered in her eyes, or the wounded, slightly worried look she gave him before she turned around and marched straight into the safe house without a backward look.