Page 157

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Eliza had never been one to get caught in a swoon, but the wicked administration of Robert’s mouth and fingers was bringing her body to a blissful tension on the verge of exploding.

That was her last coherent thought before she did explode.

The immense pleasure shattered into little pieces that shot through her veins, and she had no control of the strangled gasps escaping her.

“Is this your first time reaching a climax, Eliza?” Robert asked, moving to lay by her and cupping her face. She shook her head weakly.

“Never like this. I thought I had experienced pleasure before. Now I know what pleasure can truly be.”

Lost in the moment, she pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed it. He had made no movements to push their lovemaking further but the hardened proof of his desire strained against his drawers. She moved to touch him, and he stopped her.

“What is wrong?”

“I think it is best if we leave it here for the moment.”

“Why? I do not understand? Do you not seek the same pleasure?” Eliza’s confusion was quickly clearing the hazy aftermath of passion, and she found herself quite cross. The look in his eyes was tortured in contrast to his light tone.

“It was my utmost joy to give you pleasure Eliza. But perhaps there is something more between us then just pleasure—something I cannot give you. And joining our bodies would not be fair to you. I do not deserve any release after sharing this with you.”

He sounded every part the cold-hearted rake his reputation suggested.

She was mortified that she had given herself to him so freely.

And her plan had utterly failed. He saw that there was something between them, but he was pushing her away.

Avoiding his gaze, she moved away to dress.

Perhaps being clothed would allow her some dignity.

“Eliza, please say something. I do not mean to upset you. I just do not wish to hurt you.”

“I appreciate your concern, Your Grace. I think it is best I return to my home.”

“Come now, Eliza. We have been enjoying each other's company, let’s not cut it short.”

The audacity! She took a calming breath and chose her words carefully.

“I hope you understand that I am feeling confused, embarrassed even—” she held up her hand to quiet his objection, “—and what I need from you is space to think. You are right, there is something here. Eight years of writing letters tells us this. Two days in person only made it clearer. I would be lying if I did not admit my affection and my hopes for us. To know it is unrequited is painful, but in time, I am certain I will recover. Until I do, it is best we part ways.”

Relieved she had held her composure, she walked away and did not look back. She could not risk her resolve weakening. Perhaps she should have left when he had shared his doubts yesterday. Upon reflection, Eliza knew her hopes had been foolhardy—how could she have possibly reformed a rake?