One Week As Lovers (Somerhart 3)

Cynthia didn’t answer. When he glanced back to her it looked as though her shock was wearing off to reveal a welling anger beneath. A fully understandable anger.

She pulled the hood down further when he met her eyes.

“Right then. Let’s go.”

They probably should have stayed inside to be safe, but the prospect of quiet hours together felt anything but safe to Lancaster. Locked in that house for the day with a woman who would want an answer to one simple question…What is wrong with you?

Once he was out in the sun, once the wind filled his lungs with fresh air, the last cobwebs of memory swept away. He took Cynthia’s hand and strode faster toward the path.

If she hadn’t touched him, perhaps they’d still be hidden behind that door. She’d been so close to her peak. He would’ve swallowed her scream with a kiss. Perhaps brought her to climax again, with his tongue this time. With the taste of her filling his mouth.

But no. Falling to his knees…that simply wasn’t an option.

Swallowing hard, Lancaster made sure to look carefully around as they drew closer to the shore. He watched the horizon carefully for the silhouette of a spy, but the bright sun revealed nothing. They were alone.

As soon as the path came into sight, Cynthia drew away and ran toward it. Fearful that she’d spotted someone or heard something, he chased after her, following her down until their heads were below the level of the grass.

Then she rounded on him. “Why did you stop?” she shouted, throwing her fists against his chest.

“Ow!” He pushed her hands off him, but they just descended again, striking him harder this time.

“Bastard!”

“Stop.” Christ, she was stronger than she’d been ten years ago. He finally managed to snag her fists and keep hold of them.

“You,” she gasped. “You just stopped.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I swear to you that I’m sorry.”

She threw off his hands and backed away. “But why?”

The truth simply wasn’t an option, or not the whole of it anyway. So Lancaster grasped at a lesser truth. “I shouldn’t have done that, and you know it.”

“Well, you were doing it. That’s not an explanation.” The last word broke, and the speaking of it seemed to set free her tears. Cynthia began to cry, and Lancaster shook his head hard.

“No, don’t cry. Cynthia, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

She growled in frustrated anger and tried to wipe the tears away, but they were coming too fast.

When he approached, she tried to hit him again, but Lancaster wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, and I shouldn’t have left you so close.”

She shook her head, then paused. After a hard sniff, she asked sullenly, “Close to what?”

Lancaster squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He was not going to answer that question. “Cynthia, we’re not married. We’re not even engaged to be married. I shouldn’t be touching you, even right now.”

Her snort was something shy of delicate. “Don’t patronize me, Nick. I’m fully aware that everything that can be done inside a marriage can be done outside it as well.”

“That doesn’t make it right, Cyn.”

“It doesn’t make it wrong either.”

“Of course it does!”

“Oh, really? And I suppose I’m the first woman you’ve ever touched?”

“I…” Nick sputtered. “I don’t—”

“Oh, let me go already.”