He let her skirts fall and stepped away, face drawing tight at the fierce pain in his groin. Desire and guilt and fury at the depth of his own need warred within him. He’d always enjoyed women but this…this was uncharted territory.
‘Turn around.’ The words emerged brusquely through gritted teeth. She stared up, her lips bruised to plumpness and eyes glazed, then she turned, her head bowed.
He stared at that expanse of naked back, the vulnerable line of her nape, and almost surrendered to temptation again. But a burst of green fire outside the window brought him back to the real world. To duty.
It took him a full minute to do up her dress, his hands were so uncoordinated. When it was done he moved away, wincing at each stiff-legged step as he paced to the window. He needed time before he made a public appearance. He needed to keep away from her before his resolve shattered.
‘I’ll have to go. I’m expected and my absence will cause speculation.’
He raised his hand to smooth his hair and caught the heady scent of her essence on his fingers. He dropped his hand, summoning every vestige of strength not to go to her when his body screamed out for completion. For Tamsin.
‘Of course. I understand.’ Her voice sounded flat, but then he couldn’t hear clearly over his throbbing pulse and the crack of fireworks.
‘Will you be all right?’ Still he didn’t turn around but stood silhouetted at the arched window, his back to her.
Why wouldn’t he look at her?
She was the one embarrassed. He was the playboy with a reputation for loving then leaving each new mistress.
He’d known exactly what he was doing.
‘I’m fine,’ she murmured, wondering if the lie sounded believable. She was bereft, desperate for a look, a touch, something.
Tamsin shivered and slumped against the wall, hands splaying for support as she recalled how expert he’d been.
Her pulse raced out of control as she remembered his knowing, half-lidded look, watching her as he’d sucked at her breast. She squeezed her thighs together at the liquid heat between her legs. Who’d have guessed that every time he drew on her breast a taut line of fire would run down to her belly and lower, till she felt the empty ache inside?
Who’d have known she’d be so wanton as to rub herself needily against his hand? To delight in the sensation of his long fingers arrowing to her most private core?
Heat fired her cheeks at what she’d done, what she still wanted to do.
It was as if some alien woman had taken over her body. Some daring sensualist she’d never known, who acted on instincts Tamsin hadn’t been aware of.
Was it remotely possible this was the real Tamsin, freed of the restraints that had ruled her life so long?
Or was this the result of a life without love or physical demonstrativeness? There’d been few cuddles growing up and no teenage kisses. With Patrick she hadn’t ventured far into passion. Perhaps Alaric’s caresses had unleashed a pent up longing for physical affection.
She released a shuddering breath. She’d determined to make a new start tonight, be a new woman, free of the crutches she’d used to distance herself from others. But she hadn’t meant to go this far!
She hadn’t thought…that was the problem.
Tamsin eyed Alaric’s powerful frame, lit by a scintillating flash of red. She hadn’t thought at all after he’d admitted to being jealous, to wanting her.
Had that been real? Or had it been an excuse to keep his distance because he genuinely hadn’t wanted to be with her during the ball? The old Tamsin would have accepted the latter without a second’s hesitation. Now she didn’t know.
And this hot, heavy seduction scene? Could he have engineered it to provoke the kind of speculation he wanted? To create the illusion they were in a relationship?
But why go so far?
Yet if his desire had been genuine, and it had felt magnificently real when he’d ground himself against her, why the cold shoulder now? He’d reacted violently when she’d tried to touch him and his voice just now had been harsh.
Her lips twisted. If only she had more experience with men, with sex, she might understand!
Had he gone so far simply because she was so obviously, pantingly eager? For Alaric, was one warm female body in the dark as good as another?
The notion sickened her.
It was unfair to think it of him. Yet she remembered that first kiss and how he’d pulled up short when he’d knocked her glasses and remembered who he was kissing.
Tamsin bit her lip. All she knew was she wanted him to hold her and take her back to the place she’d been before he’d pulled away. She wanted him to smile and make her feel better.
Listen to her! She was a grown woman, not a child.