He couldn’t see her face, the hood shaded her features, but he felt her shaking. He supposed it should console him that she seemed as unhappy as he was.
It didn’t.
He knocked sharply on the carriage roof. The vehicle stopped with a lurch and he stepped out, still clutching her hand. He tossed a few coins to the driver and headed across the lawns toward Curzon Street.
The air was sharp on his face and birds sang from the thick greenery. London held a touch of freshness before the day’s bustle started. He saw a few horses on Rotten Row, too far away to identify riders or for riders to identify him. Nobody was out walking, although there had been a few early hawkers on the street.
Antonia kept her head down. Nobody would connect her with Cassandra Demarest’s dowdy chaperone. Even ashen with sorrow, she looked like a sensual angel this morning.
As they approached the side of Hyde Park nearest the Demarest house, her steps slowed with palpable reluctance. Good God, if she was so desperate to stay, why didn’t she say so? He wouldn’t cavil if she changed her mind.
Opposite the turning to Curzon Street, they paused under a horse chestnut. He longed to accompany her to her door but that was impossible.
She turned to him. He braced for a curt good-bye. But she stared up with a searching glance as if memorizing his every feature.
Hell, this was like being skinned alive. He wanted to tell her to go, to stop eking out the agony. She was so determined that he held no role in her future. Well, why didn’t she rush off to start that wonderful new life? Why not go and leave him behind to lick his wounds?
“Kiss me, Nicholas,” she whispered.
“Hell’s bells, Antonia,” he gritted out. He grabbed her shoulders and stifled the urge to shake sense into her. What did she think she was doing? Surely she knew they were meant to be together.
Her eyes glistened with tears. “Please. I love . . .”
His heart crashed to a halt.
She loved what?
Suspense tightened every muscle. He held his breath.
If she loved him. . .
After she sucked in a shuddering breath, she continued in a low, ragged voice. “I love the way you kiss me. You kiss me as if the world would end if you stopped. It makes me feel like the most desirable woman in Creation.”
Acrid disappointment flooded him. Although of course he didn’t want her to love him. Love was a worthless, dangerous emotion. He didn’t need anyone’s love, particularly that of a woman who intended to walk away without a backward glance.
Plenty of other women had claimed to love him. He’d lost count of the hysterical scenes his lovers had staged, and the tantrums inevitably involved declarations of affection.
Antonia didn’t stage hysterical scenes.
And Antonia didn’t love him. Damn her.
“Only my kisses make you feel like that?” he asked harshly. “I must be losing my touch.”
A faint tinge of color marked her cheekbones. “Well, and the other too.” Her smile wasn’t convincing. “But I’ll have to be satisfied with a kiss.”
He wouldn’t be satisfied with anything except her capitulation. He’d kiss her, all right. He’d kiss her to show her just what she’d be missing. He’d kiss her until she admitted she was wrong to leave.
He didn’t hesitate, not wanting to give her time to reconsider. Swiftly, commandingly, he swept her into his arms and swooped down to capture her mouth.
She gave a soft gasp and he took advantage of her parted lips to slide his tongue inside, to taste her so deeply that her essence leached into his bones.
He’d planned on remaining controlled, on punishing her with pleasure. The moment she arched, flung her arms around his neck, opened her mouth, he was lost.
He should have guessed any attempt to subdue her was useless. His hunger was too intense. He’d played power games from the start and he’d never won. Instead he sank into a perfect, dark velvet world where there was nothing but Antonia and the heat of her body and the demands of her mouth.
How could she relinquish this? It was utter madness.
He closed his eyes, pushed back her hood, and buried his hands in her loose tumble of hair. He kissed her as if she was his source of air and life. He clung as long and hard as he could. At this moment, she was his without question. He wouldn’t release her until he must.