“The question remains: is that time now?”
“I’m honestly not certain.” Her chin quivered, as did her hand that rested upon his shoulder. She continued to hold his gaze. Tiny golden flecks swam through his irises that added a richness to those eyes she’d never seen before. Oh, Benedict, what am I going to do with you?
“Neither am I, but there is comfort in that uncertainty if we choose to go at it together.” He tugged her closer still, enough to put his lips to the shell of her ear. “I’ve never met anyone like you; you thrill me and terrify me by turns.”
The urge to laugh grew strong, but emotions tightened her throat and made it impossible to let the sound escape. “You do the same to me,” she managed to say in a choked whisper. When he smiled in that special way he had that was slightly lopsided and it gleamed in his eyes, she forgot where she was and what was at stake in little over an hour, for she only wanted him and the connection—the belonging—he offered. “Benedict?”
“Hmm?”
“I wouldn’t mind if you wished to find a private spot where we could kiss. Or talk.” She missed a step and stumbled, but he held her upright. “It might set my mind at ease.”
Surprise flickered over his face. “You’re anxious about tonight?”
“Yes.” Tonight, tomorrow, the future with or without him.
His brow creased with concern. “But you don’t show it.”
She did laugh then, an anemic sound easily swallowed up by the ambient noise and revelry around them. “I’m skilled at hiding it at times.”
“I understand that all too well.” When the steps of the waltz took them close to the ballroom doors, he whisked her inside and then took her hand. “Come with me.” Quickly and without talking, he led her through the corridors of Worthington Hall until they came to a parlor where she’d used to relax earlier that afternoon. “This will suit your needs.”
There was no denying the spell from the dance had broken, but as Benedict closed the door and then turned the key in the lock, a different sort of enchantment came over her.
“Please hold me.” Never had she wished to show such vulnerability before anyone let alone to a man, but he was different and in his company she was safe.
He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “You always have shelter with me, Anne. I hope you know that.” Then his arms were around her and he held her close against the hard wall of his chest with his lips pressed to her temple.
“I do, and it’s much like a safety net.” She slipped her arms around his shoulders, reveled in the solid feel of him, furrowed her fingers into the short hair at his nape. A quick glance out the window showed the top slope of her rose-and-ivory balloon in the distance as Matthew no doubt worked to fill the envelope with hydrogen. “I…” What? Did what she feel for this man equate to love? Not just yet and certainly not now when so many confusing emotions set her at sea, nearly lost but for the steady lifeline of his touch. Her gaze fell to the leather goggles on a side table beneath a gorgeous arrangement of summer flowers. He certainly made what she did easier. “I…” Why was it so difficult to say?
“I know.” Benedict cupped her cheeks, held her head between his gloved palms and then claimed her lips in a kiss so tender it brought tears to her eyes and put hope in her heart for things she’d never dared to dream.
Anne lifted onto her toes to better return his overture. In this moment, she’d let him lead, for she didn’t want that responsibility. Right now, she needed to feel protected and cherished, to put herself into his control without caring what direction they went.
The dear man took the hint splendidly. He moved over her mouth as if he wished to memorize every contour and detail of her lips. When he eased the tip of his tongue along their seam, she opened for him, invited him in, and moaned when the kiss deepened. One of his hands traced her spine, and as he squeezed her arse, brought her closer still to his body, the bulge of his arousal twitching insistently at her navel set fire to her imagination.
But she didn’t act on any of the urges shooting through her veins. She wanted him to decide, to guide the embrace. Instead, she surrendered, let herself fall and knew he would catch her if she found danger along the way.
“Anne…” He dragged his lips beneath her jaw, along the column of her throat, and as he kissed and licked a path around her bodice, she arched her back, giving him a clear invitation.
“Hmm?” She couldn’t remember how to form more complicated words, for every touch, each kiss, sent clouds into her brain and reduced her knees to the strength of cooked porridge.
“One moment.” Benedict slid his hands up her back. He quickly undid the few buttons of her gown, and when the garment sagged about her breasts, he tugged the bodice down. “This provides easier access than your flight gear, certainly.”
“Finally, a good reason to dress like every other woman in the ton,” she said, and her voice was decidedly breathless.
“Sweeting, you couldn’t be like anyone else even if you tried.” He palmed her breasts, kneaded them until she shivered, and then with a maddening chuckle, he worried the nipples into tightened peaks.
Wild sensation streaked through her body to pool in her core. His words, the brush of his fingers, the soft gleam in his eyes all worked at her undoing. She lifted a hand, and with her fingers at his nape guided his mouth to one of the aching buds. “How do you make me forget everything the second you touch me?”
“Because we’re more than friends.” He shifted attention to the neglected nipple, and a shuddering moan escaped her. “Perhaps soulmates, according to my mother.”
Well, that would explain the strong connection between them, the unexplained comfort and attraction that had smacked into her upon their first meeting. And then she didn’t care because he felt too good, too right, and she wanted more of him.
He pulled away. No longer did she feel the heat of his mouth on her skin, but the desire he’d stoked still pulsed strong within her. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t want to.” She wanted him, to join with him one last time before she had to make this flight that might change her life.
“Neither do I, but I’m compelled.”