What You Desire (Anything for Love 1)

Sophie folded her arms across her chest. “I am still here,” she sighed, wondering why he made it sound as though he’d had no choice in the matter. It was not as if she’d forced him follow her. “Trust me, it has been just as much of a hardship for me.”

It had not been a hardship at all.

On the contrary, she had loved every single minute of it. She sat back on the sofa and studied Dane’s profile. The sight of him almost caused her to sigh. It was not right that a man should be so handsome, or be allowed to sit in drawing rooms and cause no end of distraction with his firm jaw and wicked mouth. Even the swelling below his eye and the cut to his lip made him appear all the more striking, all the more dangerous, all the more lovable.

How on earth was she going to live without him?

Why such an unsolicited thought should choose to pop into her head, she didn’t know. But rather than dampen her desire, it merely served to inflame it. He was here, in the room, right now. If she stretched out her hand, she could touch him. He was not lost to her, not yet.

She was suddenly overcome with the need to feel his mouth on hers, to feel the warmth of his body pressing against her, reassuring her. Desire grew. The feeling claimed her, spread rapidly through her body, robbing her of all rational thought.

Completely oblivious to her predicament, Dane said to the group, “Perhaps we should return to the question of the necklace.”

But she could not focus on anything as she was consumed by an overwhelming need for him, a need so intense it was painful. “If you will excuse me,” Sophie whispered as she stood. “I shall be back in a moment.” If she could just get some air, she thought, angry at herself for being such a slave to her emotions. She was going to have to learn how to deal with these exaggerated feelings.

But then she would have a lifetime alone to do it.

Chapter 23

Sophie was in the dining room, pacing back and forth and wringing her hands when Sebastian walked in.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone laced with concern. “You’re not angry because of what I said, about being forced to put up with you?” He closed the door and stepped further into the room. “Because you know I didn’t mean it. I only said it to annoy your brother. Surely, you know I would not change anything about our time together.”

She could not look at him as his words had a ring of finality. “No, no it’s fine. Please, I’ll be along in a minute.”

She could hardly tell him she was so consumed with love for him, so aroused by the sight of him she could barely breathe let alone think clearly. She could not comprehend where the feelings had come from. One minute they were talking about the necklace, the next … well. Perhaps this is what happened when those with an overly passionate nature fell in love. She had felt the same way yesterday, after her meeting with Madame Labelle.

Perhaps it was because their journey was coming to an end.

Now her brother had arrived, they would not be able to continue as before. Sebastian’s swollen eye was proof of that. They would not be able to lie together. She would never feel the warmth of his skin. Never feel whole again.

He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t,” she cried and he turned her around to face him. The heat radiating from his hand caused her body to tremble, the connection stimulating every nerve.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” His warm, brown eyes were reaching out to her, soothing her, caressing her, drawing her in until she felt giddy.

Pulling away, she barged past him and strode towards the door, in search of a distraction. Her body ached for him, her heart cried out for him. He must never discover the depth of her love; she must never say the words.

“We … we should return to the drawing room.” Her voice sounded weak, fractured.

Then he was behind her, surrounding her, pressing himself against her, his hands braced against the door. “Stay,” was the only word he said, but it hit her like a tempest, almost knocking her off her feet.

As she whirled around to protest, to plead, he was looking down at her and she could feel his breath like a soft whisper against her cheek. Helplessly, she watched as his lips came down on hers and then she was lost.

She tore frantically at his clothes in a bid to be close to him, devoured his mouth with a need more powerful than anything she’d ever felt before.

This would be the last time, she thought, the last time she would feel his touch.

She should have whispered to slow down, so she could brand it into her memory. But the need to feel him inside her obliterated every other thought.

“My God. This is madness,” he whispered in her ear as he secured her thighs around his waist and thrust home.

Everything became a beautiful blur. A primal urge to race for completion consumed them and in no time she was biting into his shoulder to stifle the sound of her release.

When he lowered her to her feet, he simply stared into her eyes. The rapid rise and fall of his chest was such an intoxicating sound.

“Life would never be dull with you around,” he panted.