“Cass!”
He stopped.
“Cass?” She opened her eyes as he lifted his head.
“If I don’t stop now, I’ll pick you up, carry you into the palace to my rooms and...” He leaned down and grazed another kiss across her lips, lightning fast. “I won’t stop.”
She swallowed hard. She wanted him, wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone.
But if she went to bed with Cass, if she made herself vulnerable to him in any way, she would be surrendering her control. She’d risked, and suffered, rejection over and over again, from Trey and her stepsisters to Daxon. Was taking this step worth the risk? Not to mention she would be truly closing the door on the possibility of having her first time be with a man who loved her.
The thought stopped her cold.
Something flickered in Cass’s eyes. Before she could gather her thoughts or reply, he pushed himself off her, then held out a hand.
She accepted it, allowed him to pull her to her feet. Before she could say anything he turned, grabbed the rope of the sled and started off toward the castle.
Wait!
Her heart cried out, urging her to stop him. But the sight of his retreating back stopped the words in her throat. She had been about to make a split-second decision based on emotion. Cass had told her multiple times emotion had no place in their upcoming marriage.
She couldn’t say how long she stood watching Cass walk across the plain. He stopped at the base of the hill, arched a brow and nodded toward the castle. Slowly, she followed. When she reached his side, they walked up the hill together. Once they reached the rose garden, he broke off and headed toward the stables without another word.
Once in her room, she drew herself a scalding bath. When she eased her body into the Jacuzzi tub, she imagined the hot water burning away all traces of Cass’s touch from her skin.
Eventually they would have to be intimate. They both wanted children. But she had several years before she would be ready for a family of her own. Perhaps it would be better to postpone any intimacies until they’d gotten to know each other better.
Because if just a kiss was an indication of how quickly she could fall under the spell of physical passion, she needed time to fortify herself.
She would not risk losing her heart to her husband.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CASSWATCHEDBRIONYout of the corner of his eye as she surveyed a painting on the gallery wall. His fingers tightened on his champagne glass as his gaze drifted over the dark green gown, laced and fitted to her slender body like a glove.
He took a sip of his drink and grimaced as the bubbles hit his tongue. Where was a good whiskey when you needed one?
The last week had been perfect. He’d only seen Briony in public settings, in the dining room or Alaric’s office. He had kept all temptation off the table. He’d focused on his committees, on working with Alaric to distribute funds, and had kept his interactions with his fiancée professional and brief.
Until he’d screwed it up. Again.
When she’d challenged him to go sledding, he’d been raw inside, not thinking straight when he’d decided to show her that he wasn’t a stuffed shirt or whatever idiom she’d used. The moment he’d sat down behind her, felt her incredible body relax against him, heard her sparkling laugh as they’d raced down the hillside, he’d felt more alive than he had in years.
And then he’d landed on top of her, she’d whispered “Yes...” and the world had exploded. He hadn’t been able to stop touching her, kissing her, tasting her. If they had been somewhere private and not surrounded by snow, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from stripping her naked and sliding inside her incredible body.
His eyes narrowed as he watched Briony walk over to another painting, her head tilted to one side. It was better that he had walked away, for both their sakes. His past sexual encounters had been enjoyable. But no woman had inspired such lust in him. Before they had sex—not made love—he would have to find a way to tamp down the physical passion he felt for Briony. He wanted to enjoy his marriage, yes.
But too much of such raging intensity could lead into territory he wanted no part of.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Briony drift toward an open door with a sign above that read Artistes Linnaea.Her strong, confident movements were offset by the voluminous skirts, which gave her the appearance of gliding into the gallery. Her red curls had been wound into an intricate updo on top of her head, baring her neck to his gaze.
For a moment, he entertained the notion of loosening his self-control just a bit, allowing himself to embrace some of the feelings Briony inspired.
But like a well-tuned weapon, the image of Aunt Alecine sprang to mind, her shoulders shaking as she cried into her hands and told him over and over again that she was sorry for ever being stupid enough to fall in love.
As he took another sip of champagne and steeled himself to rejoin his fiancée, his aunt’s sobs echoed in his mind, each remembered cry strengthening his resolve to not make the same mistake.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the painting in front of her. A dirt road meandered through fields of golden grain. In the distance, against purple-blue mountains and trees tinged red, the palace of Linnaea stood tall and proud. A little girl stood off to the side, hair tossed in the wind as she kept one arm wrapped around the neck of a brown dog.