Page 36 of Across the Star-Kissed Sea (Proper Romance Regency #1)

He shook his head, the faint light catching his sheepish look.

“Come, now. What are you thinking?” Surely we were friends enough that he could tell me his thoughts, silly as he seemed to believe they were.

“I ...” His eyes trailed from mine down my face to my lips. “I was simply thinking that tonight ...”

I raised my brows. A funny pattering overtook my chest. Somehow, I knew what he meant to say.

My heart, picking up speed with each shallow breath he took, hungered to hear him say it.

But in my head, I cried out for time to halt.

Once he uttered those words, there would be no returning to the camaraderie we’d had before.

This could be the start of our final chapter.

I swallowed. Or the prologue to a story I never imagined writing when I set foot on Marianne ’s deck.

I wasn’t ready to face that possibility yet.

“That tonight,” he said softly, his tone so gentle my whole soul ached, “I wish I could kiss you.”

A burst of brightness erupted inside me, and I straightened.

“Oh,” I said. Gracious, what was the matter with me?

I shuffled to the side, breaking our contact, and turned my attention back to the dinoflagellates, which seemed to have dimmed since a few moments ago.

“I’m not certain we really want to do that.

” I laughed shakily. My legs shook. Good heavens. Was I taking ill?

Elias said nothing, and I didn’t dare look at him. I could feel his dejection through the cold air between us. Now what would we do? I’d have to pass him in the gun room every day, see his downcast face, know I did that to him. All because I was too afraid of the possibilities.

I focused on the trio of dolphins, trying to think of something to say. How did one change the subject after a declaration such as that? The creatures wove through the glowing sea, swift and powerful, then one by one, they dove and disappeared under the ship’s keel.

Blast.

I chanced a peek in Elias’s direction. He’d taken off his spectacles and now twirled them between his fingers.

Blue light glinted off the lenses. He stood with elbows planted against the rail, the set of his brows in the faint light more resigned than heartbroken.

Had this happened before? I attempted to burrow deeper into my thin redingote.

Removed from Elias’s warmth, the chill was penetrating my inadequate layers.

“How big are these creatures?” I asked.

He straightened, pocketing his spectacles. I’d killed his excitement over the discovery. I hunched my shoulders. What a mess. I’d ruined the night.

“They’re quite small. Hardly visible to the human eye without assistance,” he said.

Then the little pricks of light were not individual organisms but many together. I trained my mind on the revelation but could not conjure more curiosity. It was a wonder, to be sure. And still, I wished to return to my cabin to drown in my guilt.

I set my chin on my fist. Why did I feel guilt?

Because I’d hurt him far more than his mistake at the beginning of our acquaintance had hurt me.

What was more, part of me wanted the same thing he did—that closeness, that love.

I just couldn’t bring myself to trust someone to such a degree.

The people I’d trusted in the past had all forsaken me.

I shivered, folding my arms across my middle.

Was that it? Was it trust that held me back?

“Are you cold?” Elias asked. I didn’t detect any offense in his voice.

Only the sweet concern he always showed me.

He stood with one hand partially extended toward me, as though he wasn’t certain whether I would want his care.

I dug my fingers onto the cuffs of my sleeves.

It wasn’t fair to judge him based on my family’s actions.

If there was a single soul on this earth who wouldn’t abandon me, it had to be Elias Doswell.

“It is a bit frigid.” I couldn’t let this chance slip through my fingers. What if the greatest moments life had to offer me lay in the love of this soft-spoken clergyman?

Elias reached up to pull his greatcoat from his shoulders.

Before my head could catch up with my heart, I darted over, slipped between him and his coat, and pulled the garment’s edges around the both of us.

My back pressed against his chest, which expanded rapidly until I thought it would burst. He froze, arms still raised to remove the greatcoat.

Facing away from him, I couldn’t see his expression, but I could only imagine the confusion on his features.

“This is better,” I said timidly, my mind awhirl at the feel of him against me and the jasmine scent wafting off his warm, wool coat. He didn’t move. Mercy, what had I done?

Elias

My throat didn’t work when I tried to swallow. A moment before she’d pushed away, and now she pressed against me, soft and comfortable, as though she hadn’t just dashed my hopes. I hardly trusted my senses.

I lowered my arms to my sides, letting them hang awkwardly.

“Or perhaps this isn’t better?” She turned her head as though listening for my answer.

Could she hear my thundering pulse as loudly as I did?

She started to pull forward. “I’m sorry.”

I wrapped my arms around her, keeping her safely in the confines of my greatcoat. “Yes, this is certainly better.”

She relaxed into me, leaning her head back against my shoulder.

I rested my head on hers, struggling to believe this reversal.

Standing in the pleasant night, cradling her in my arms, I could let the pain of the past fade into the darkness.

She wanted something more, just as I did.

I didn’t have to guess or play Society’s games. Perhaps I had simply moved too hastily.

Far too common with you, Elias.

I silenced the voice in my head. If I had to move slowly for May’s sake, I would. The sea’s glow swayed before us as though painting a picture of the excitement mounting inside me.

“Elias?”

A thrill coursed up my spine at the sound of my name.

“I’m sorry I refused.”

With a smile, I hugged her more tightly to me. “You needn’t be.”

“I was frightened,” she said. “I think I still am.”

I kissed the top of her head, my face lingering against her soft hair. We were both in the service of the navy, in a matter of speaking. Neither of us was going anywhere. We had as much time as she needed, and I intended to give it to her.

She turned toward me, her hair tickling my face as she moved. “But I don’t want”—our cheeks brushed. Then our lips. She paused, eyes widening. The magical light shimmered in their depths—“to be frightened.”

I felt the words’ vibrations against my lips as much as I heard them. I’d been too close when she’d turned. She hadn’t anticipated my mouth being in the perfectly wrong place. Or right place. I didn’t move, much as I longed to finish what we’d unintentionally started.

Her breath played across my lips, toying with my resolve. She hadn’t backed away, but neither had she drawn into the kiss. We stood suspended between our desires and her fears.

Slowly, Elias.

I closed my eyes, pulling back to distance my lips from her, but at the same moment, she rose up and kissed me.

My heart skipped, and the corners of my mouth lifted as I eagerly returned it.

Her hands found the sides of my face, her fingers splaying across my jaw and down my neck.

Gooseflesh shot across my skin as heat grew in my chest. I tightened our embrace.

Warning bells sounded in the back of my consciousness, but I paid them no heed.

We both had fears to work through. I wanted to face them with her.

She quivered, and I pulled the edges of my greatcoat more securely around us.

I’d dreamed of holding her in my arms again since the night I’d comforted her in her cabin.

I’d dreamed of kissing her, too, in moments of utter weakness.

Dreams paled in comparison to the reality of feeling her against me, wanting me like I wanted her.

The Marianne tilted in a swell, and I steadied us against the rail. She broke away with a breathy laugh. “I’m not very good at this.” Her hands fluttered down to rest on my waistcoat.

On the contrary. What she thought she lacked in experience was concealed in pure desire. “You’re thinking too much.”

“You aren’t supposed to think when you kiss someone?”

Not that hard. “You’re supposed to feel it.”

She cocked her head, tracing the front edges of my waistcoat with her fingers. “Sometimes I don’t like to feel.”

I watched her fingers travel down my chest, meeting where the waistcoat overlapped in line with my racing heart. “Did you like to feel now?” I asked.

She ducked her chin, and I imagined a little blush across her cheeks, though I couldn’t see it in the night. “Very much,” she said in a whisper so soft I could barely make it out.

“You need not be afraid, May.” I’d protect her with everything I had.

Loneliness, abandonment, betrayal—these were part of both our pasts.

They wouldn’t be any longer. With her burrowed into my coat and my arms still through its sleeves, I couldn’t reach her chin to lift it.

I dipped my head until our lips met again, coaxing her back into a kiss.

She melted against me with a sigh and let me taste her lips with soft kisses.

She kissed me back, following my lead as she gripped the front of my waistcoat.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so alive. It was as if the light of the glowing sea had permeated my skin, whirling through my veins and clearing my mind of bitter memories. A fresh start, and with this confident, loyal woman who saw my weakness and did not turn away.

I pulled back to catch my breath, and May studied my face. Was that affection on her face or just my own heart reflected in her eyes? She nestled her head against my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I never want this night to end,” she whispered.

My galloping heart wouldn’t let me speak, so I pressed my lips to her forehead. The kiss would have to answer for me.