He answered with a rough sound that might have been “Yes,” and threw back his head that she might brand his throat with her fury of hot kisses. Impatiently, she nudged aside his shirt to reach his collarbone. There, she bit him. He groaned against the surge of lust, his hands drifting up the curve of her waist and ribcage in an exploration of his own, pausing beneath the alluring softness of her breasts.
“Would you pursue me that far?” she asked.
“How far?”
“To the ends of the earth.”
“Would you make me?”
Instead of answering, she caught his head and held him fast to kiss him, her lips plundering his, feverish, ferocious. She touched her tongue to his and retreated; he caught her and back she came, and then it was his turn to plunder, to explore her mouth with his tongue, to stroke her and madden her and let her know how intensely he wanted her. More than he wanted air, certainly, for he was light-headed by the time she broke away and brushed his hair from his forehead.
“Was it your wish to touch me too?” she whispered, her eyes searching his. “Because all these kisses, they are filling up inside me, and all these places want your touch.”
His hands rode up the last few inches to cup her breasts, to seek out and tease her nipples, evoking a whimper that had him pressing his heels into the earth, grounding himself so he would not grab that yellow bodice in his fists and tear the blasted gown from her body.
They could not make love if they were not married. Of course, they would marry. But he still had to ask. She still had to say yes.
“Thea, beautiful, enchanting Thea… We can’t.”
“But I want more. I shan’t take too much. I’ll leave you what you need. I only want a bit more.”
Rafe did not think he could give only a bit more. He wanted to give her everything, and take all of her.
“More of what?” he managed.
“Of you. I know you need to be alone sometimes.” Her voice was tender and pleading. “But give me a glimpse of you, of the man you are when no one else is watching, when you are alone and you are purely you.” She nipped his earlobe, and he made a frog-like sound that caused her to giggle. A blaze of desire seared through him, but even in the midst of this torment, Rafe had to laugh, laugh with the sheer joy of being, and being with her. When she looked into his eyes, he fancied he saw her spirit and hoped she saw his too, that he might be with her as if he were alone.
Alone with her.
The funny thing was, he had never felt less alone in his life.
“Thea, first… There’s something I must do first…”
Steeling himself against the throb in his loins and the lust clawing at his limbs, Rafe slid out from between her and the wall. Her palms were pressed to her cheeks, her delicious pink lips parted, her eyes so bright she looked fevered.
But before he could ask his question, she said, “Yes,” and she knew, she had answered!
And then she added, “First, you must catch me.”
She took two steps backward, and then whirled about and ran. Her yellow skirts flew around her, her hair freeing itself to stream behind her.
She wanted to play, to make him work for it.
The anticipation amplified his desire, thrilling him, startling him.
And when she had gained some distance, Rafe inhaled deeply and gave chase.
Chapter 22
Thea did not know what she was doing.
All she knew was that every minute she passed with Rafe felt right, and today was all she had. Rafe’s wish was to kiss her; he never said he wanted her to stay. He had chosen not to be in the world; she could not ask for more. No matter, she had to leave anyway, put the world right and start her life again.
But that still gave her today, and whatever memories today would bring.
She ran toward the lake, the grass springy under her bare feet. No one was around, not on a Sunday afternoon, and the quiet lent the garden an air of enchantment, as if it were magically hidden from the world. She risked a glance over her shoulder: Rafe was loping after her in pursuit. They both knew he could catch her easily if he wished. Yet he played her game.
Laughing with her scarce breath, Thea darted into a copse of trees, beyond which lay the secluded part of the lake, where she had swum alone. In the trees, she glanced around again. No Rafe. Surely he had not tired of the game so soon?
But as she reached the last of the trees, a sound had her whirling, to see Rafe, grinning and close. He pounced, catching her around the waist from behind. With a squeal, she grabbed the nearest tree. His breathing was ragged in her ear, his chest hot against her back.
I must remember this, she thought, and soaked up every sensation, seared it into her memory.
“Were you aware,” he murmured, his rough breathiness curling deliciously over her ear, “that your dress is fastened with four buttons?”