Hero, Come Back (Cynster 9.50)

Besides, once he realized that she wasn’t the mysterious Miss Smythe, but merely plain old Miss Amanda Preston, his interest in her wouldn’t be as keen.

“We danced? How could that be?” he argued, rising up on his cot. “I would remember dancing with you.”

The way he said it, she didn’t know whether to be insulted that he didn’t remember her, or delighted that he thought her so special.

“I assure you, we danced,” she said. “Though I’m not surprised you don’t recall me. I was quite forgettable back then.”

He glanced up at her and smiled. “I would never describe you as forgettable, and I can’t believe that I danced with you and wasn’t completely and utterly charmed.”

She bit her lip and wished he had been. That he’d fallen in love with her that very night and they would have had all these long years together. And now…now it was too late.

“You wanted to dance with Lady Alice and she was already spoken for. There was room for an extra couple in her line, and so you set out to take advantage of her company, if only for the few seconds it would afford you. I was the closest female available, and so you asked me to dance.”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t! Tell me I wasn’t such an arrogant lout.”

“You were,” she teased.

“But you,I would have remembered you,” he insisted, rising from his cot and crossing the cell. His fingers wound around the bars as if he wanted to tug them out of his way so he could pull her into his eager embrace. “You are not easily forgettable.”

“I’m not the same woman.” She shrugged. “Heavens, I’m not the same woman I was a week ago. Apparently learning of one’s imminent mortality has a way of changing a person. Challenging them to make up for lost time.” She glanced directly at him. “At least it had for me.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “I fear it had the opposite effect on me. I’m still a fool, I’m still unable to—”

She held up her hand to stave off his words. “It matters not what happened then or tonight. I don’t think you a fool.” That he truly thought her beautiful and memorable and kissable filled her soul with a joy she’d thought lost a few minutes ago.

“It matters very much,” he shot back. “I was an idiot back then. How can you ever forgive me?”

“There was never anything to forgive,” she said softly. And she meant it. She had been forgettable, allowing herself to get lost behind her sisters’ beauty, cowed by her mother’s criticisms, relegated to obscurity by her father’s parsimony. “If there was anything to forgive, you must believe that you’ve repaid me these past few days in ways you will never imagine.”

He shook his head. “I don’t see how. I’ve blundered your plans to go to Brighton. Gotten you arrested, and now…well, how will I be able to see that you wiggle your toes in the waves?”

“Going to Brighton wasn’t the only item on my list,” she told him. “I’ve discovered quite another dream come true here in Bramley Hollow.”

She moved closer to the bars. He stood facing her, clutching the ancient iron bars, and so she twined her fingers around his. His hands were warm and strong, and his strength once again lent her the courage to take the reins of her life.

To seize what was before her.

Meeting his gaze, Amanda saw only too clearly his hunger for her. For her, she marveled. He wanted her as passionately as she desired him. She didn’t waste a second.

She leaned forward until her lips met his. It wasn’t the same as when she could feel his body against hers, but his kiss welcomed hers hungrily, and it sent the same warm tendrils of desire trailing down her spine.

When his tongue drew a tempting line across her lips, she opened her mouth to him, inviting him in, like opening the door to an eager pirate hungry for plunder.

She rose up on her toes, as she sought to claim every bit of his kiss that she could with these wretched bars separating them. His arms reached through and pulled her closer, stroking her back, teasing her hair out of its elaborate display and into a tumble of curls down her back.

His touch left her weak and trembling, her heart thundering with passion. His lips teased hers, drew her into a heady, tempestuous tangle of wanton desire and passion. Oh, how she wanted him, wanted him to kiss her until this trembling, teasing need found release.

Then to her chagrin, he drew back for a moment. “If it wasn’t for these demmed bars, I’d have you—” He stopped himself. “I mean to say, I’d—”

She caught hold of him, dragged him back to her lips, and kissed him anew. Then she asked him, “You’d what, Jemmy? What would you do to me?” She stared into his stormy gaze and willed him to tell her what he’d do.

“I-I-I’d—”

“Make love to me?” she asked, hopefully. “Ruin me beyond redemption?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, you wicked girl. That is exactly what I would do.”

She caught hold of the bars that were now her enemies and rattled them with all her might. “This isn’t fair,” she cried out. “I have waited all my life to be ruined, and I will not be thwarted now!”