"Brock."
She hadn’t objected when he called her Selina. Now he watched her delicate features soften. When she spoke his name, it sounded like a benediction. "Brock."
Tenderness sliced through him, sharp as a knife, and he leaned in to kiss her. He kept enough grip on strategy to rein in his passion – although passion stirred as powerful as a dragon waking in its cave.
She made a faint sound of surprise, and her lips fluttered beneath his. She tasted like honey. She kissed like an untried maiden. For a burning second, sweetness overwhelmed him.
Brock wasn’t a man who did sweetness. Or tenderness. But something about this slender woman with her dark blond hair and sad eyes sparked protective instincts that he hadn’t known he possessed.
She pulled back. Which was probably a good thing. Because now wasn’t the time to push her to greater intimacies. The settle concealed them from the doorway, but as she said, anyone could come in. If they were discovered alone like this, it would cause scandal enough. If they were kissing, the fat would truly hit the fire.
He dropped his hand from her face. In part because he hadn’t counted on the heady effect of touching her. During this house party, he’d slept alone, despite plenty of opportunities for company. But compared to Selina Martin’s refined beauty, every other woman here seemed overblown and obvious.
As Selina raised a trembling hand to touch her lush lips, her eyes were round with astonishment. He had plans for those lips, plans that had kept him randy and restless all week. How could a woman with a mouth made for sin imagine that any man could find her disappointing?
"That was…"
"A promise of more to come." He caught her hand again. Now he’d touched her, it was impossible to stop. "Will you give me a week, Selina?"
"You’d need to promise discretion. Word can never get out that we were together."
"I swear I’ll never speak of this."
"Thank you."
"So will you come to me?"
That hungry gaze roamed his features, making his blood churn with heat. "If I can."
Triumph surged through him. It was yes. By God, it was yes.
He spoke in a rush, in case she changed her mind. "I have a hunting box in the Essex marshes. Lovely and isolated. Even better, it’s only a couple of hours away. I don’t want to spend days stuck in a carriage."
Although he could think of plenty of things they could do in a carriage. A week wasn’t long enough for everything he wanted to experience with this woman.
But a week was all they had. There was no point regretting their limited time together. He never wasted energy fretting over impossibilities.
Brock went on. "You’ll love it. The sea is only a mile away."
Her eyes glowed with anticipation. "I’ve never seen the sea."
He dared to tease her. Now he had her consent, he was ready to dare his life. "I hope it’s not just the sightseeing you find appealing."
To his surprise, Selina smiled, properly this time. "I look forward to seeing the country. Not to mention a certain wicked gentleman who may offer a modicum of entertainment."
He laughed. He’d never imagined her mocking him. Hell, he wanted to kiss her again, but he couldn’t risk it. If she came to him tomorrow, he’d kiss her until she was breathless.
"We can’t leave Derwent Hall together," she said. "And I brought a maid with me. What can I do with her? I don’t want her coming with us, but I’ll have to tell her something."
"Can you make up some reason not to go home straightaway? A school friend or a relative in the area you’d like to see?"
"I suppose I could." She made a moue of self-disgust. "I’m not used to telling lies."
"Will you lie this once for me, Selina?"
She looked down to where he held her hand. "Gladly." The eyes she raised to his were brilliant with light. "I’ll say I have a friend who lives nearby. I’m lying on my own behalf, too. I want to know how it feels to share my body with a man I want, not one to whom I owe no more than duty."
Poignant emotion clogged his throat – when he wasn’t a man who did emotion either – and his voice emerged as a rasp. "You do me too much honor, my darling."