“As you claimed, Miss Fairbanks, almost three years have passed since we last saw each other. Even if we were lovers and had some sort of attachment with each other, there was no formal announcement or agreement between our families. Years have passed, and our interests have diverged from each other. Surely you did not expect some sort of attachment to remain. Your actions are unwarranted and unpardonable. Release me.”
Her eyes searched his face, and a part of him wanted to howl at the misery in her eyes.
“Do you not recall me at all? Except for that…the chaise longue?”
Another blush. She was decidedly interesting. “No,” he said, smooth and low. Liar, he silently snarled. Yet he could not say yes, for he did not know if they were dreams or memories.
Miss Fairbanks moved away from him and returned with a clipping shear. She cut the binding from his hands and stepped back, resting the shears on a small wooden table. A tingling sensation rushed through his hands, and he massaged them before he pushed from the bed and stood. A quick glance outside showed nightfall, and the slapping on the roof revealed it rained. She did not protest when he walked past her and opened the door. They seemed to be surrounded by wild, beautiful forestry. The rain blew inside under a sharp gust of wind, but he did not move. He recognized the cottage and its surroundings. They were on his property, miles from the main house. Simon stood there, staring out into the darkened woodland, unable to step forward.
He felt when she moved closer to him, nay he sensed her. Simon turned around with the firm intention of bidding her adieu and trekking through the woodlands to his estate. Suddenly, things were different, for she was right there, a mere breath away. Holding his stare, she rose onto her toes and pressed the flat of her palm to his chest.
“My heart beats for you and only you, Simon Gracely.”
The memory of that soft whisper wound itself around him, and he forgot that the wind blew at his back and that outside was chilly. He tried to chase the memory but let it go when a throb started at the base of his neck. His fingers closed around her wrist. She stilled. He wasn’t sure if it was to push her away or tug her closer so that her breasts pressed against his chest. Simon couldn’t help noticing how well they fitted together, that she felt…familiar.
Yet, it did not prove anything other than that they were once lovers. He’d had more than one lover in his life. Nothing should be special about this one who was decidedly too brazen, a lady he had clearly thought unsuitable to meet his family. A lady who might be lying to him even as she stared up at him with such exquisite yearning. He caught a loose tendril of her hair with his free hand and smoothed it behind her ear.“Fran…”
His tongue tied, and he wondered at the affectionate way he called her name.
Her eyes had also widened at that shortened use of her name. “Only you have ever called me Fran.”
“It does not signify anything, Miss Fairbanks; you are a stranger to me.”
“And you have no curiosity about me, my lord?”
His heart gave an odd flutter. He did want to know more about her. But to what end? Was it only mere curiosity? He did not answer and her lush mouth smiled. It did incredible things to his damn heart, jerking it as if he had no damn will or control over his emotions.
“I do not believe I like you, Miss Fairbanks.”
Unexpected humor glimmered in her eyes. “You’ve never liked anything that unsettled you.”
Fuck.
She placed a light, trembling touch on his jaw. “Stay with me, Simon,” she whispered. “Seven days. If you do not recall me in the end…walk away, and I shall never bother you again.”
For a moment, Miss Fairbanks looked everywherebutat him as if bracing for his rejection. Then she lifted her regard to his, and he realized this woman would not fear anything. She would fight for what she wanted.
“How old are you?”
“Three and twenty.”
So incredibly young but so bravely defiant. A sense of enthrallment wrapped around his body. He wanted to know her. Truly. The awareness of that shocked him. She must have seen something in his expression, for she grinned, tipped back her head and laughed. It was softly exultant, filled with relief and echoed with hope.
He could only stare at her, for that laugh was the very one from his dreams…no, memories. This woman was a surprise. Nothing about her was expected or could be predicted. She took one step closer and fitted her mouth against his.
Simon’s mouth burned with the imprint of her lips. A painful ache rushed to his cock, hardening his length, and the most visceral pangs of hunger tore through him. His knees felt weak, and his fingers, as they lightly touched her cheek, trembled. He could not help himself.
Simon kissed her.
His entire world contracted to the sensations of her mouth against his. A soft sigh and those lips parted. He swept his tongue into the warmness of that space and trembled.
What the hell is this?
Need erupted through him and poured through his body like molten lava. The flavor of her mouth was sweet and elusive, sublime. No…she tasted like sun-ripened peaches. And without a doubt, it was also pure utter torture. There was a sense of belonging in her touch, a familiar comfort. Unexpectedly, he felt like he was falling, even though he logically knew his legs were firmly planted and braced on the ground. He tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her close, an inescapable truth hitting him like a bolt of lightning.
One kiss from her would never be enough.