“Where are we going? Certainly not Russell Square.”
Hudson Lockhart smiled in the devilish way that sent her heart fluttering. “I wondered when you would notice.”
She had heard him give muffled instructions to his coachman but had paid it no heed.
“Tell me, Miss Darling. If I could grant you one wish, what would it be?”
One wish? One wish was not enough.
Various thoughts and images filled her head.
You could kiss me.
You could kiss me so deeply I might never feel alone again.
“Well?” he continued. “What could I do to show my appreciation for your loyalty and abiding friendship?”
You could beg me to stay with you for more than one week.
He didn’t wait for her reply. “I’m taking you home, back to Falaura Glen.”
“Home?” To Falaura Glen? Claudia should have been elated—she longed to see Emily. But panic sent her pulse racing. “You don’t need me to play your wife anymore?” A sharp pain in her throat made it hard to swallow.
He appeared confused. “Of course I need you. I cannot do this alone, not without you. No, I promised you could visit. I know it’s a little earlier than expected but—”
Unable to contain the surge of emotion, she darted across the carriage and flung her arms around his neck. She kissed him once on the lips—a chaste kiss of appreciation, of gratitude that their time together had not come to an end.
“Thank you.” Claudia wasn’t sure why she was thanking him. Yes, she was desperate to see Emily, just as desperate to remain at his side.
Lord, when had things become so complicated?
Hudson brushed his hand gently across her cheek. “Hell, if I’d known you’d be this appreciative I would have brought you home sooner.”
Claudia kissed him again, three quick kisses on the lips. She was tired of battling her addiction. With the fourth kiss, she grew bolder. The need to taste him overruled logic and rationale. Indeed, like a slave to her will, he allowed her to take charge. He simply followed her lead—let her coax his lips apart, let her explore his mouth and drink as deeply as she needed to ease the bone-numbing fear inside.
“I trust you’re using me to practise your performance,” he said when she broke contact to catch her breath. “That kiss spoke of lust, Miss Darling, not gratitude, and certainly not love. If you’re confused, perhaps you might permit me to demonstrate the latter.”
Oh, how he loved to tease her.
“One cannot deny you need the practice.” Claudia could no longer stop her need to kiss him than she could stop the changing tides. “Show me. Show me what the kiss of love is like for you, Mr Lockhart.”
“Certainly.” He shuffled around to face her fully. His gaze softened as he looked admiringly at her hair and nose and mouth before staring deeply into her eyes.
The gold flecks circling his pupils gleamed. With every passing hour, he grew more familiar. She could draw his face from memory, recall every line, every detail.
“Don’t be impatient,” he said when she moistened her lips and sighed.
He cupped her cheeks as if she were as fragile as a porcelain doll. With the pads of his thumbs, he caressed her cheekbones in gentle strokes. Drawing her towards him, he closed his eyes. His hot breath breezed across her lips as he hovered but a centimetre away.
Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she waited for that first magical touch.
When it came, the power of it hit her deep in her core. The essence of the man she’d grown so fond of seemed to penetrate the fine skin, flooding her body with a vibrant glow. That one long, lingering kiss held her captive.
Hudson broke contact but remained just a few inches away. “If I loved you,” he whispered, “I would tell you now.”
Claudia struggled to catch her breath. Humour was the only way she might save herself from blushing, from drowning beneath these giddy emotions.
“And if I loved you, I would climb on your lap and ravage you senseless.”