cheek, but he flinched, and she let it fall uselessly to her side.
Nathan reclaimed her hand and carried it to his mouth. He placed his lips sweetly, caressing the top of her hand, and then turned it over. His hot breath fanned the inside portion of her wrist, and she shivered. “Do you know the moment I fell in love with you?” he asked on a hoarse whisper.
Her breath caught and held when his lips achingly loved her wrist. Her eyes slid closed. She was incapable of words. “Mmm?”
He ceased his ministrations and raised his head. “The moment I saw you come to the aid of a child being spanked by his nanny in Hyde Park. I fell in love with you then.”
Tears popped behind her lids and her vision blurred. “I love you.”
He winced. “Your father is right. I am not worthy of your love.”
She tapped his cheek with a finger. “Don’t say that. He is wrong. Those words couldn’t be more untrue.”
“Why do you love me?” he persisted. “Why, in spite of what my father was, in spite of the state of my holdings, why would you choose me as the man to give your love?”
There was desperation to Nathan’s words, words that shook with the force of his emotion.
Alexandra’s lips turned up. “Silly man. Why ever would I judge you for the faults of your father? You are not like him. You’re not,” she insisted when he made a sound of disagreement.
“I like the card tables.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “Really, Nathan. Name a gentleman who does not.”
He settled back into his seat but didn’t argue the point.
“Come, let us speak of something altogether more pleasant.” She picked up the forgotten book of poetry resting at her side, a very special gift that Lord Byron had given to Nathan. Nathan had, in turn, given the personal collection of poems to Alexandra. She handed it to him now.
He opened to a random selection and studied the title. His lips twitched in the first real amusement she’d seen from him that morning.
Alexandra glanced down at the poem he’d landed on and read aloud. “ Maid of Athens, ere we part, ” she muttered.
He fanned through several pages and opened to—
Nathan froze.
Alexandra cursed quietly, words unfit for a lady. “ Epitaph to a Dog ?” She freed her arm from his and tugged the book from his hands. “Oh, do give me that. You really must speak to your friend about his penchant for writing such grim poems.” She very deliberately scanned through the volume until settling on Lines Addressed to a Young Lady.
She thrust the book back into his hands. “Here. Now read.”
Nathan laughed, not the frighteningly aloof sound he’d mustered earlier, but the one which always filled her with happiness. He tugged one of the pale, golden curls artfully hanging beside her cheek. “How can I deny such a lovely request?”
He proceeded to read in his mellifluous, silken tone that had the power to warm her through like a summer sun.
“ The sentence I should scarce deplore;
It only would restore a heart,
Which but belong’d to thee before.
The least atonement I can make
Is to become no longer free…”
The final words faded to a faint quietness so that Alexandra strained to hear.
He traced distracted circles with his finger over the poem. “I cannot do this,” he said into the silence of the room.
Alexandra’s gaze studied the movements of his fingers. Six-Seven-Eight-Nine-Ten.
“Ten circles,” she added inanely.
He snapped the book closed and leapt to his feet, as though the settee had sprung metal spikes.
“Nath—”
Nathan dragged her to her feet and, before she knew what he intended, his lips found hers. Her body liquefied under the seductive pull of his kiss. His arms wrapped around her, tugging her close to his center so her breasts were crushed to the hard wall of his chest.
He had kissed her before. But never like this. Never this unrestrained feeling that the world could end and they’d be just fine as long as they were wrapped safely
Nathan reclaimed her hand and carried it to his mouth. He placed his lips sweetly, caressing the top of her hand, and then turned it over. His hot breath fanned the inside portion of her wrist, and she shivered. “Do you know the moment I fell in love with you?” he asked on a hoarse whisper.
Her breath caught and held when his lips achingly loved her wrist. Her eyes slid closed. She was incapable of words. “Mmm?”
He ceased his ministrations and raised his head. “The moment I saw you come to the aid of a child being spanked by his nanny in Hyde Park. I fell in love with you then.”
Tears popped behind her lids and her vision blurred. “I love you.”
He winced. “Your father is right. I am not worthy of your love.”
She tapped his cheek with a finger. “Don’t say that. He is wrong. Those words couldn’t be more untrue.”
“Why do you love me?” he persisted. “Why, in spite of what my father was, in spite of the state of my holdings, why would you choose me as the man to give your love?”
There was desperation to Nathan’s words, words that shook with the force of his emotion.
Alexandra’s lips turned up. “Silly man. Why ever would I judge you for the faults of your father? You are not like him. You’re not,” she insisted when he made a sound of disagreement.
“I like the card tables.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “Really, Nathan. Name a gentleman who does not.”
He settled back into his seat but didn’t argue the point.
“Come, let us speak of something altogether more pleasant.” She picked up the forgotten book of poetry resting at her side, a very special gift that Lord Byron had given to Nathan. Nathan had, in turn, given the personal collection of poems to Alexandra. She handed it to him now.
He opened to a random selection and studied the title. His lips twitched in the first real amusement she’d seen from him that morning.
Alexandra glanced down at the poem he’d landed on and read aloud. “ Maid of Athens, ere we part, ” she muttered.
He fanned through several pages and opened to—
Nathan froze.
Alexandra cursed quietly, words unfit for a lady. “ Epitaph to a Dog ?” She freed her arm from his and tugged the book from his hands. “Oh, do give me that. You really must speak to your friend about his penchant for writing such grim poems.” She very deliberately scanned through the volume until settling on Lines Addressed to a Young Lady.
She thrust the book back into his hands. “Here. Now read.”
Nathan laughed, not the frighteningly aloof sound he’d mustered earlier, but the one which always filled her with happiness. He tugged one of the pale, golden curls artfully hanging beside her cheek. “How can I deny such a lovely request?”
He proceeded to read in his mellifluous, silken tone that had the power to warm her through like a summer sun.
“ The sentence I should scarce deplore;
It only would restore a heart,
Which but belong’d to thee before.
The least atonement I can make
Is to become no longer free…”
The final words faded to a faint quietness so that Alexandra strained to hear.
He traced distracted circles with his finger over the poem. “I cannot do this,” he said into the silence of the room.
Alexandra’s gaze studied the movements of his fingers. Six-Seven-Eight-Nine-Ten.
“Ten circles,” she added inanely.
He snapped the book closed and leapt to his feet, as though the settee had sprung metal spikes.
“Nath—”
Nathan dragged her to her feet and, before she knew what he intended, his lips found hers. Her body liquefied under the seductive pull of his kiss. His arms wrapped around her, tugging her close to his center so her breasts were crushed to the hard wall of his chest.
He had kissed her before. But never like this. Never this unrestrained feeling that the world could end and they’d be just fine as long as they were wrapped safely
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