reined in his demons and brought himself under control. God, and this was just a kiss—or was supposed to have been.
Robert slowly lifted his head. Serena’s rosy lips were swollen, and her face flushed. He wondered if her breasts were tinged with passion. Her nipples hardened and brushed his chest. Robert groaned. He’d attend to them later. Holding her tightly, he stroked the length of her back and recaptured her lips, plundering and laying claim to them. He drew back to gaze at Serena. Her wide eyes returned his stare.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The vulnerability in her voice humbled him.
“No, you did everything right.” Too right. He was well and truly caught. How was he to keep Serena and remain in control? “We need to return before they begin to search for us.”
Robert kissed her lightly before leading her out of the folly. His plans for her leapt forward. He must marry her, and soon.
Phoebe and Marcus were waiting for them when they returned to the box. Phoebe’s sharp eyes looked from Serena to Robert and back. A slow pink rose in Serena’s face.
Robert assumed a bland and uninformative mien. “Where are the others?”
Marcus scowled. “They’ve left. Miss Marlow had to go home. Anna and Rutherford are playing gooseberry.”
Robert looked down at Serena, willing her to feel his gaze. She glanced up. “Would you like to ride to-morrow morning?”
“Yes.”
He held Serena’s hand and her attention, while Marcus helped Phoebe into the carriage.
Serena was taking one last look around, when Robert heard Phoebe mutter to her husband.
“He’d better be intending to tell her he loves her and wants to marry her.”
Robert stiffened.
“I’ve no doubt he intends to marry her,” Marcus responded quietly. “Just don’t expect him to tell her he loves her. He’ll not want to give her that much power over him.”
“Then she won’t accept him.”
Robert’s gaze flashed to Serena, who approached the coach with a contented sigh. He would not lose her, no matter what he had to do.
Serena lay in bed and touched her lips.
It seemed if they’d crossed some sort of invisible barrier tonight that had held them back before. His heat and his need were tangible. As for her, flames of desire flickered just below her surface, ready to rise again at the thought of him. Yet, somehow she knew, despite their passionate kisses, that he still held her at a distance. Something held him back from declaring his love for her.
It was too late to guard her heart. She’d lost it when he’d pleaded with her to rescue him from the young ladies at the soirée. She wanted her marriage to be a sharing of power and love—most definitely love—and he remained silent. There could be few worse things than to be hopelessly in love with your husband and have him not feel the same.
Robert had tossed and turned the night before, wanting Serena with him. He wondered how quickly they could marry, after he asked her. What Phoebe had said gave him pause, but he couldn’t believe Serena would refuse, not after she’d kissed him.
Robert wanted a large wedding at Haythrope Hall, his ancestral home. He supposed he’d have to discuss the settlements with St. Eth, after which, Serena would be his. Beaumont would never have to watch another man dance with her—or touch her—again.
Robert arrived in the Park the next day for his morning ride to find Serena with Marcus and Phoebe, trotting toward the tan. The weather was perfect. The leaves rustled in the trees and first flowers, finally bursting forth into bloom, decorated the landscape.
Phoebe’s eyes narrowed when Robert rode up. It took a while, but he managed to smooth her ruffled feathers and give her the impression he’d done nothing with Serena of which Phoebe would not approve. It wasn’t precisely true, but, well, he did mean marriage after all. He rode ahead with Serena, racing her up Rotten Row, before heading back to Grosvenor Square.
Robert
Robert slowly lifted his head. Serena’s rosy lips were swollen, and her face flushed. He wondered if her breasts were tinged with passion. Her nipples hardened and brushed his chest. Robert groaned. He’d attend to them later. Holding her tightly, he stroked the length of her back and recaptured her lips, plundering and laying claim to them. He drew back to gaze at Serena. Her wide eyes returned his stare.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The vulnerability in her voice humbled him.
“No, you did everything right.” Too right. He was well and truly caught. How was he to keep Serena and remain in control? “We need to return before they begin to search for us.”
Robert kissed her lightly before leading her out of the folly. His plans for her leapt forward. He must marry her, and soon.
Phoebe and Marcus were waiting for them when they returned to the box. Phoebe’s sharp eyes looked from Serena to Robert and back. A slow pink rose in Serena’s face.
Robert assumed a bland and uninformative mien. “Where are the others?”
Marcus scowled. “They’ve left. Miss Marlow had to go home. Anna and Rutherford are playing gooseberry.”
Robert looked down at Serena, willing her to feel his gaze. She glanced up. “Would you like to ride to-morrow morning?”
“Yes.”
He held Serena’s hand and her attention, while Marcus helped Phoebe into the carriage.
Serena was taking one last look around, when Robert heard Phoebe mutter to her husband.
“He’d better be intending to tell her he loves her and wants to marry her.”
Robert stiffened.
“I’ve no doubt he intends to marry her,” Marcus responded quietly. “Just don’t expect him to tell her he loves her. He’ll not want to give her that much power over him.”
“Then she won’t accept him.”
Robert’s gaze flashed to Serena, who approached the coach with a contented sigh. He would not lose her, no matter what he had to do.
Serena lay in bed and touched her lips.
It seemed if they’d crossed some sort of invisible barrier tonight that had held them back before. His heat and his need were tangible. As for her, flames of desire flickered just below her surface, ready to rise again at the thought of him. Yet, somehow she knew, despite their passionate kisses, that he still held her at a distance. Something held him back from declaring his love for her.
It was too late to guard her heart. She’d lost it when he’d pleaded with her to rescue him from the young ladies at the soirée. She wanted her marriage to be a sharing of power and love—most definitely love—and he remained silent. There could be few worse things than to be hopelessly in love with your husband and have him not feel the same.
Robert had tossed and turned the night before, wanting Serena with him. He wondered how quickly they could marry, after he asked her. What Phoebe had said gave him pause, but he couldn’t believe Serena would refuse, not after she’d kissed him.
Robert wanted a large wedding at Haythrope Hall, his ancestral home. He supposed he’d have to discuss the settlements with St. Eth, after which, Serena would be his. Beaumont would never have to watch another man dance with her—or touch her—again.
Robert arrived in the Park the next day for his morning ride to find Serena with Marcus and Phoebe, trotting toward the tan. The weather was perfect. The leaves rustled in the trees and first flowers, finally bursting forth into bloom, decorated the landscape.
Phoebe’s eyes narrowed when Robert rode up. It took a while, but he managed to smooth her ruffled feathers and give her the impression he’d done nothing with Serena of which Phoebe would not approve. It wasn’t precisely true, but, well, he did mean marriage after all. He rode ahead with Serena, racing her up Rotten Row, before heading back to Grosvenor Square.
Robert
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