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No one like Nicholas had ever kissed her before.
Breathless, she watched his face lower toward hers, felt herself drowning in those cool, oddly intense eyes that seemed to read her very soul.
“One kiss, Lady Arianne. One.”
Then his mouth descended upon hers, claiming it as a knight would claim a battlefield.
A shock like lightning quivering through a birch tree ran through her. A shimmering fire caught and held.
The kiss was gentle. But not so gentle that she didn’t feel the ripple of power from him, the control he was exercising, the deliberation. She wanted suddenly to startle him out of that control, to make him want her as she wanted him.
Her lips clung to his, parted, heat flaring from her to him, her arms circling his neck and tightening.
Nicholas knew he should stop after that one kiss. He’d meant to, but she tasted like summer honey and autumn spice. Shock ran through him—and something else. Desire. With an oath, Nicholas twisted his hands in her hair and deepened the kiss. He heard her soft gasp, knew a swift, grim satisfaction, and then he felt her entire body quiver as his mouth explored the curve of her lips with rough, demanding thoroughness. He took his time, tasting and savoring.
“Arianne,” he muttered at last, lifting his head, letting her breathe, but before she could speak, he backed her against the hard stone wall, held her there helpless, and kissed her yet again.
He didn’t want to stop. Was damned if he would stop…
Unless she wanted him to…
Her full, soft breasts were pressed against him, straining, yearning. He felt her tremble in his arms like a wild creature.
Careful,he warned himself, even as he claimed her mouth still, ruthless with the wanting of it. A voice inside shouted that it was nearly too late for caution.
Then, suddenly, without warning, he pulled back. Her eyes were shining, her lips bruised. She stared at him in dazed wonder and rising joy.
His sanity flooded back.
“Arianne, go.”
“No.” She flung her arms around his neck.
He disengaged them, his blood beating hotly in his temples.
“Go!”
“I am staying. I…”
He wheeled away from her, then immediately sprang back. He gripped her by the arms, not gently, his lean face dangerous in that dim and silent chamber. “If you stay, I can’t answer for what will happen. I’m a strong man.” He gave a bitter half laugh. “I’ve survived worse dungeons than the one far beneath us in the bowels of this castle. I’ve survived whippings and beatings, starvation, bitter cold, and war—but I cannot survive you. The wanting of you…needing of you…not being able to have you…”
“Have me. Take me. I’m yours,” she whispered and threw her arms around his neck again, rising up on tiptoe to kiss him.
A sweet kiss. An innocent, giving, yearning kiss that stirred something previously untouched inside him and sent the fire raging even more intensely until, abruptly, Nicholas knew he had to pull away.
He held her at arm’s length, reining in with a supreme act of will the tattered remnants of his self-control.
“This is wrong, Ari.” His voice was thick, yet dogged. “Wrong. You know nothing of men, of the world. You’re in love with some boy you knew long ago, some wild, heedless daredevil you admired from afar…”
“Yes—and no! I loved you then, lovedhimthen—but you’re not that boy anymore. I know that. He’s gone forever. You’re not that boy, and I’m not that skinny, freckled child who followed after you. Look at me, Nicholas.” She raised her chin, her eyes bright as stars, defiant, compelling. “I’m a woman, a grown woman.”
He groaned and raked a hand through his hair. That she was. A beautiful woman. With her lush, pouting lips, her brilliant eyes, her creamy, flawless skin. And hair softer than velvet and sweeter-smelling than the wildest of forest flowers.
“And I love the man I see before me,” she went on in a whisper that tore at his heart. “I would trust my life to you, give my life for you. I love you, Nicholas of Dinadan. I always have. And now, now more than ever, I always will.”
Firm and stubborn she stood there, a slender, incredibly lovely woman reaching out to him. Giving, loving, hoping.
“I was wrong about you before…in the cottage. Those things I said. You are a true friend to my brother. You’re risking everything for Marcus. For me. I beg forgiveness for misjudging you.”