Still, she hesitated, though only for a brief second before his scent and the desperate desire to ease away his sorrow in some small way overwhelmed her. She wanted this. She wanted him. And he must have felt her compliance, for he closed the gap between them once more with a kiss that reached to the depth of her soul.
This was passion and desire – it had to be – and she was alive with it, so alive every nerve ending in her body clamored for more. Her lips parted instinctively, and he wasted no time in taking advantage. Good lord! Whoever knew it would feel so grand to be devoured? His hand slid down her back, its progress slow, assessing, gauging her willingness and her reaction.
Angelica gasped. Not because she objected to his caress, but because of the air brushing over the nape of her neck. Ice dug its way under her skin like claws trying to rake their way through her. “I…” She drew back. “Do you feel that?”
His eyebrows drew together in bewilderment. “What?”
She glanced about. The chill trickled down her spine, slowly releasing its grip. “I’m referring to the cold.”
He stared at her. “We are near the window. Perhaps you’re more sensitive to the lower temperature in this part of the room than I am.”
“Of course.” That had to be it, right? Any other explanation would border on madness. She shivered. “Perhaps I should make a habit of wearing a shawl while I’m here.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed.
His gaze drove into hers in a way that made her heart pound with longing. Something warm touched her hand, almost causing her to leap. She relaxed when she realized it was his fingers, slowly sliding over her skin in a way that pushed all else to the background. She forgot her unease and relaxed once more while allowing herself to savor his touch.
“I want you to know…” His mouth flattened in a serious manner. He swallowed in an almost awkward sort of way. “I haven’t kissed any of the others. Only you.”
It felt important. Monumentally so. Yet she still had to ask, “Why?”
“Because I don’t want them. I want you.”
Angelica’s lips parted in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be quite to frank. “You barely know me.”
“I know you’re the only woman here with whom I can see myself spending the rest of my life. Whether or not it will come to that will be determined in the coming days.”
“You already know I don’t care for Colchester Hall. What if I don’t want to live here?”
The edges around his mouth tightened and he released her hand. Stepping away from her, he watched her through narrowed eyes. “This is my ancestral home. I cannot rid myself of it simply because you wish it.”
“No. Of course you—”
“But” –he held up a hand— “I could perhaps be persuaded to spend more time in London.”
“Really?” He merely inclined his head by way of answer. Angelica bit her lip and considered the sacrifice he was ready to make. “Thank you. For everything you’re offering to do.”
He shrugged one shoulder and strolled toward the side table. She followed and watched as he poured two glasses of port, their still-full teacups on the table completely forgotten. “We’re merely trying to learn if an understanding can be reached.” He held one glass toward her, and she stepped forward to take it. “Marriage requires compromise. Don’t think I won’t ask for anything in return.”
Angelica gazed up at him. There was something mesmerizing in the way he looked at her. “Like what?” She had to know.
“I won’t endure another marriage in which my wife and I sleep apart.”
Her face heated. “Really?” The word was more of a squeak than something one might consider part of the English language.
His lips curved into the most devilish smile she’d ever seen. “I have needs, Angelica. And I will expect you to tend to them.”
Good lord, the way he said her name, like a sensual purr. And the words themselves, what they implied… It was scandalous in the extreme – he was being scandalous and… and a secret part of her deep down inside thrilled at it.
“I see I have shocked you,” he murmured. A low chuckle followed. “Sip your drink. It will help you regain your balance.”
She did as he suggested. “I am usually the one to shock others with my boldness.”
“How does it feel, having the favor returned?”
The answer crossed her lips without any thought. “Reassuring.” It was baffling, but it was the truth. “It is comforting to know what one can expect.”
“Precisely the reason why I am so partial to you.”
Unsure of what else to say, Angelica glanced at the door and…glanced at it again. A dark shadow was there, just beyond the light, and the chill that had gripped her earlier hooked its claws into her shoulders.
She gasped. “I think someone’s watching.”
“Where?”
She looked back at him and pointed. “Right there.”
“I don’t see anyone.” He crossed to the door and opened it wide, but before he reached it Angelica saw that the shadow was gone. “It was probably just a servant or one of the other guests passing by.”
“Yes,” she whispered, because to suggest anything else would only urge him to cart her off to Bedlam instead of to the altar. “You’re probably right.” She forced a smile and set her glass aside. Perhaps she was merely tired and it had been a trick of the light. “It is getting late. I should go upstairs if I am to get ready in time for dinner.”
“By all means.” He placed his glass on the fireplace mantle and reached for her hand. “It has been a true pleasure.” Holding her gaze, he raised her hand to his lips.
Her stomach did a funny flip, and her skin turned all jittery. “Likewise,” she managed, thankfully getting the word out without it sounding too strangled. Taking a deep breath, she turned and made her way to the door on slightly wobbly legs.
“Angelica?” He halted her right before she managed to slip out of the room.
Her heart knocked against her ribs as she glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
Dark eyes met hers. “How did you like the kiss?”
She considered something proper like, “it was pleasant” or, “very much.” But she knew he liked her for her boldness and her unvarnished honesty, and if there was ever a time for both, this was it.
So she drew back her shoulders, met his gaze dead on, and smiled. “It was spectacular, my lord.”
“Randolph.” There was something hot and needy in the way he said it. “I want you to call me Randolph.”
“Very well.” Her fingers curled around the edge of the door, latching on in an effort to hold herself steady. And then she tested the name. “Randolph.” His eyes lit up, egging her on. “I hope we have a chance to do it again.”
“That can certainly be arranged.”
And because she sensed he was on the verge of stalking toward her, shutting the door, and ravaging her right there where she stood, she departed before he had the chance to do something quite so damning.
Chapter 4