Eden didn't want to lie, not to him, not anymore. But she
couldn't tell him the truth.
Lord Penhollow sat down on the piano bench beside her, his
back to the instrument. "Play."
"What shall I play?"
"It doesn't matter."
Her fingers trembled as she touched the ivory keys. She was
all too aware of him, of his thigh brushing against hers,
of his arm leaning on the piano, of the intensity in his
face.
For a moment, her mind went blank. She could barely
remember her name, let alone why she was here. Her fingers
stuck a D chord and then began moving almost with a will of
their own. Mozart.
The music had been written to be played by moonlight. It
wasn't an easy piece. Its mood changed swiftly, flowing
from pensive contemplation to almost joyous rapture and
back again.
She played for him as she'd played for no other, letting
the music speak words that could never, should never be
spoken between them.
His expression sober, he leaned his head down on his arm,
listening. The light from the single candle encircled them.
Eden didn't feel the burn of tears until the first one
trickled down her cheek. She struggled to hold back the
others. Her throat ached with the pain of regret. Still she
played, her fingers running over the keys, striking chords.
Another tear escaped, this time falling free and striking
the back of her hand just as she finished the final chord.
The music vibrated in the air. Neither spoke. Eden couldn't
face him. She lowered her head, staring at the contrast of
her fingers against the creamy ivory keys.
The back of his fingers stroked her cheek. She shivered at
his touch, then closed her eyes, pressing her cheek closer,
wanting these few moments between them.
Her tears flowed freely now. She tasted them on her lips,
and then, tasted him. His fingers brushed her lips softly,
before his lips hovered near hers in silent question.
Eden had never kissed before. The women of Madame Indrani's
did not kiss. A kiss was too intimate, too personal. A poet
had once said, a kiss could claim a woman's soul and never
give it back and Madame had trained her women to believe
it. But now, Eden craved that intimacy. The blood roaring
in her ears, she wet her lips and parted them.
He needed no other invitation. Their lips met.
The kiss was far more gentle than she'd anticipated. His
lips were smooth and soft. Kissing him felt as natural as
breathing and she relaxed into it with a small sigh. His
arms came around her, pulling her closer. Her hands still
rested on the piano keys. She raised them now and placed
them awkwardly upon his shoulders.
His lips pressed against hers curved into smile, a heart
beat before his arms tightened and his kiss deepened.
What had started off as simple and innocent flared into
passion. Her breasts flattened against the solid strength
of his chest. Separated by only the thin layers of cotton
material between them, she could feel his heart beat. Her
nipples tightened in response. The tip of his tongue gently
stroked her lower lip. It tickled and she gasped in
surprise. That's when his tongue sweetly entered her mouth
and she really learned how to kiss.
This was intimate. . . but, very exciting.
Eden drank her fill of him. He'd been sipping brandy. She
could taste it in the kiss, mingled with the salt from her
own tears. His skin smelled of the spice scent of his
shaving soap he'd used a few hours earlier.
But it wasn't enough. She wanted to be closer and hooked
her arms around his neck He chuckled deep in his throat.
His hands on her waist, he lifted her up to sit on his lap.
Eden faced him, her bent legs embracing his body. She
kissed him back now. He'd shown her how and she reveled in
the feel of his body pressed against hers. Placing her hand
against his jaw, she delighted in the texture of his
whiskered growth beneath her fingers and the movement of
his muscles as he devoured her with his kiss.
Their movements pushed her night dress up her thighs.
Pressed against his black, finely woven breeches, she could
feel the long, hard length of him. Something possessive and
proud soared inside her, opening her to him. She pressed
closer.
His hand ran up her bare thigh and slipped beneath the
night dress. Their kiss went deeper and deeper as if they
could pull the very breath from each other. She tugged at
his shirt, wanting clothes removed between them. Her
fingers slipped under the waist of his breeches and her
fingertips brushed the velvety hard head of his erection.
His hand came round and captured hers, preventing her from
exploring further. He broke the kiss and leaned back
against the pianoforte, his breathing heavy.
Eden tossed her hair back, a wildness thrumming through
her. She leaned her arms on his chest and bit his bottom
lip. "Why did you stop? I want to touch you. I need to feel
you."
She would have kissed him again, but he shook his head,
taking both her wrists in his hands. "If we don't stop
here, then I'll never stop."
Eden rubbed her breasts against his chest. "Then let's not
stop."
His eyes glowed in the candlelight. She waited. She felt
wanton, she felt powerful . . . she felt honest. This, she
was trained for. This, she understood.
Suddenly, he rose, bringing her up with him. Strong arms
cradled her shoulders and her legs. He blew out the candle
and carried her from the drawing room to the hallway
leading to her bedroom.
Eden threw her arms around his shoulders breathing in the
scent of warm man and starched cotton. Tomorrow, she would
leave, but she would have tonight.
He pressed her door open with his shoulder. The room was
dark save for the moonlight coming in through the panes of
the French doors and spreading across the bed. Outside, the
fountain splashed and crickets called.
Eden's heartbeat quickened as he didn't waste time but
crossed to the bed and laid her down upon the sheets, the
bed still indented where her body had been resting earlier.
She reached for him.
But Lord Penhollow didn't follow her onto the bed. Instead
he backed away, moving into the shadows.
Eden came up on one elbow. "Aren't you joining me?"
"No."
Her passion fuddled mind had difficulty
understanding. "No?" She came up on her knees. "But I
thought– We were just . . ." Her voice trailed off.
She couldn't put into words what they'd been doing in the
drawing room. Oh, she knew many descriptions for it, but
none of that matched this racing of her heart and the
almost desperate need inside her. "Don't you want me?"
He gave shaky laugh and then whispered, "I burn for you. I
want nothing more than to be buried inside you and feel
your body around me."
Eden groaned with the aching desire his words inspired. She
reached out. "Then come to me."
"I can't."
Eden dropped her hand to the bed, gathering the sheets in a
fist clenched in frustration. "Why?"
"Because there is something I want from you more."
"And what is that?"
"I want you to trust me."
Trust. Eden sat back on her heels. She combed her hair back
from her face with her hands. "What if I can't give you
that?"
"You will," he said fiercely. "Because I'm not the type of
man to stop until I get what I want."
Her heart seemed to stop. "What if what you want, is not
what you expect?"
"You're an innocent, Eden. I could never believe you guilty
of wrong doing."
"An innocent?" she repeated with disbelief. "What makes you
believe that, my lord?"
His teeth flashed white in the darkness. "My sweet Eden, I
could tell by your kiss. I'm the first man you've kissed,
although you learn quickly."
"My lord, I'm far from innocent that you think–"
"No, stop. Aren't we all guilty of something?" he
practically growled.
His anger surprised her. She pulled back just as he crossed
the room to her. His hands grasped her arms and lifted her
to meet his kiss. This kiss was different than the earlier.
It was savage, possessive, and branded her completely as
his.
He let go and Eden slid to the bed, unable to move.
Her body cried for more.
He stood over the bed. "You're mine," he said. "But I want
more than just this, Eden. When I take you, it will be when
I can claim all of you. Your heart, your mind . . . your
soul." Without another word, he turned and left the room,
shutting the door behind him.
It was hours before Eden could fall asleep and when she
did, she knew she would not be leaving on the morrow.