He managed to drag his lips from hers, but couldn’t keep from exploring the temptation of her slender neck, savoring the vibrations against his lips when she expelled a long, husky groan. God, she felt so good. Smelled so good. Tasted so good. And he’d wanted her for so damn long.
After pressing one last lingering kiss to the satiny skin behind her ear, he drew a shaky breath and forced himself to straighten.
Looking down at her, he bit back an agonized groan. With her eyes closed, hair wildly mussed from the wind and his impatient hands, cheeks flushed cherry-red, and lips moist and parted, she looked aroused and thoroughly kissed and more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen.
Her eyes slowly blinked open, and she gazed at him with a dazed expression. He lifted one unsteady hand to brush back a stray curl from her flushed cheek, then gently glided the pad of his thumb over her plump lower lip. The need to say something gripped him, but words failed him. All he could do was look. And feel. And want.
“Ethan…” The sound of his name, uttered in that husky, aroused rasp, tightened his every muscle with need. She framed his face between her hands, and he felt the slight trembling of her fingers as they feathered over his skin. As if she were trying to memorize his features with her fingertips.
“So this is what kissing is supposed to be like. I was married for ten years and never knew.”
She sounded as dazed and bemused as he felt. If he’d been able to form a coherent sentence, he would have told her that he didn’t know kissing could be like that, either, although he’d always known it would be like that with her. How could it not with a woman who made his heart pound with a mere look? He knew in his soul he’d never be able to erase the taste of her, the feel of her—every detail was burned into his mind, branded in his senses.
And tomorrow she would be gone.
Taking his heart with him.
Just when he’d decided that perhaps there was a tiny piece of it left to give to Delia.
Half of him wouldn’t trade the last few moments, this entire day, with Cassie for anything.
The other half wished she’d never come back. Because now he craved her even more. He could barely contemplate dredging up the strength to unwrap his arms around her and set her away from him so they could return to the inn. How the bloody hell was he going to stand watching her leave tomorrow?
He didn’t know. But one thing he did know.
They still had tonight.
“Cassie—”
She touched her fingers to his lips and shook her head. “Please don’t say you’re sorry.”
Reaching up, he lightly clasped her hand and kissed the soft, pale skin of her inner wrist. And enjoyed her quick in-take of breath. “I’m not sorry. I’m…” His voice trailed off, and he brought her hand to his chest, then pressed her palm to the spot where his heart thudded in hard, fast beats.
“You’re what?” she asked in a breathless voice.
“Hungry for more. Cassie, you asked me to spend the day with you. Now I’m asking you to spend the night with me.”
Chapter Six
Cassandra paced the length of her bedchamber, her insides knotted into a jumble of nervous expectation. In less than thirty minutes, she’d be joining Ethan for dinner—which would lead to…after dinner. I’m asking you to spend the night with me.
His words reverberated through her mind. Words she couldn’t deny she’d secretly hoped, prayed to hear. Words that deep in her heart she knew were the ones that had driven her to stop at the Blue Seas. So that for one night she wouldn’t be alone. And so that Ethan, who had lived in her heart all these years, would be the person to banish the loneliness she’d lived with for so long.
Tonight he would do just that.
Tonight she would shove aside the respectability that suppressed her deeply buried desires, desires she’d give free rein to for this one night. Tonight she wouldn’t have to lie alone in the dark and pretend it was Ethan’s hands touching her rather than her own.
After returning to the inn an hour earlier, she and Ethan had parted company—but not until he’d pulled her into a shadowed corner of the stable and kissed her with that same intoxicating, knee-weakening perfection, leaving her aroused and breathless and aching for more. On her way to her own room, she’d stopped by Sophie’s chamber. One look at her maid confirmed she was still exhausted from the journey, so Cassandra arranged with Mrs. Tildon for a tray to be brought to her room, an offer Sophie had gratefully accepted.
Guilt pricked Cassandra at how quickly she’d offered to arrange for that dinner tray. And at how selfish she felt for wanting to dine at the table alone with Ethan. She’d buried her conscience, reminding herself that there was nothing improper about a widow dining in a public place with an old friend, especially as there would surely be other guests in the main room. And she ignored how completely improper her plans for after dinner were.
Walking to the oval cheval glass, Cassandra heaved a sigh at her reflection. For just this one night she dearly wished she had something beautiful to wear. She’d done the best she could with her appearance given her severely limited wardrobe—Westmore had refused to fund anything more than the barest necessities—but the most that could be said for her drab gray gown was that it wasn’t the hated and hypocritical black of mourning.
A knock roused her from her musing, and she crossed the room to answer the summons. A broad-faced, pink-cheeked young woman dressed in servant’s garb, holding a tray from which delicious aromas wafted, bobbed a shallow curtsy. “Yer dinner tray’s arrived, milady. Yer bath as well.”
“Dinner? Bath…?” her confused voice trailed off as the maid entered, followed by a quartet of sturdy young men hefting a copper tub partially filled with steaming water. The maid set the tray on the bed while the men moved toward the hearth. “But I didn’t—”
“Here’s a towel and soap for ye,” the maid continued, setting the items next to the tub. “I’ve also a note for ye, milady.” She slipped a folded piece of paper sealed with a blob of wax from her apron pocket and handed the missive to Cassandra. “Sorry to hear yer journey tired ye so, milady, but a warm meal and hot bath will set ye back to rights.” After another quick curtsy, she followed the young men out, then closed the door quietly behind her.
Cassandra immediately broke the wax seal, unfolded the paper, and scanned the brief note.
Enjoy your bath. I’ll join you soon.
Ethan
Her gaze shifted from the generously laden dinner tray to the steaming tub, and tears sprang to her eyes at his thoughtful gesture. Clearly he’d decided they should dine in the privacy of her room rather than in the inn’s main room—a plan that quickened her pulse into an erratic beat.
She undressed as quickly as she could without Sophie’s help, then lowered herself into the heated water. With a blissful sigh, she bent her knees and slithered her back down until she was submerged to her chin. Her eyelids had just drifted closed when she heard a muffled sound near the window. She opened her eyes, and her heart jumped at the sight of a shadowy figure on the small balcony. A shadowy figure she immediately recognized. One that opened the French windows, then silently slipped into the room.
She stared in amazement as Ethan walked slowly toward her, his eyes gleaming like twin ebony braziers. In one hand he held a large worn leather satchel. Her avid gaze drank in his imposing height, the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his long legs outlined by his snug black breeches. His midnight hair gleamed in the golden glow from the crackling fire, which cast his rugged features in an intriguing display of shadows and light. He looked big and strong, masculine and darkly attractive, and everything inside her heated with awareness, tingled with anticipation.
“H-how did you get onto that balcony?” she asked.
“My room is directly above this one. It’s a reasonably short drop.”
Her eyes widened. “Drop? You could have injured yourself!”
He reached the edge of the tub and halted. His
gaze skimmed slowly over her, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “A small risk given the reward.”
“Why didn’t you simply use the door?”
“Too ordinary for an extraordinary woman like you. And I intend to see to it that everything about tonight is extraordinary for you.”
Her heart stumbled at his softly spoken words. Before she could even think up a reply, he continued, “My timing is perfect, I see.”
“Perfect for what?” Her voice sounded positively breathless.
“For helping you bathe—the first step in my plan.”
“If that’s the first step, I’m burning with curiosity to know what the second step entails.”
He set the satchel on the floor, then crouched down next to the tub. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing muscular brown forearms which he leaned on the tub’s copper edge. Dipping his fingertips in the water, he lightly stirred the surface, his serious gaze resting on hers. “The second step—and every step afterward—is to give you the sort of evening you deserve. The sort you’ve been denied all these years. One filled with happiness and smiles. Romance and passion.”
“Oh…my.” To her mortification, hot tears rushed into her eyes.
He traced a single wet fingertip over one of her upraised knees, skittering tingles along her skin. “Since our time together is so short, I didn’t want to waste a moment of it dining in the main room. I hope you don’t mind.”
Cassandra shook her head and tried to speak around the tightness in her throat. “I can’t recall the last time anyone has done something so thoughtful for me.”
“You deserve to have thoughtful things done for you all the time, Cassie. But I have to admit my intentions are also selfish. I want to spend what time we have together in private. I don’t want to share you.”
The heated way he was looking at her, the velvety seduction of his voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “I don’t want to share you, either.” She craned her neck and cut her gaze toward the floor. “What is in the satchel you brought?”
His lopsided grin flashed. “Surprises.”
“What sort of surprises?”
“Curious, are you?”
“Extremely.”
A devilish gleam danced in his eyes. “How badly do you want to know?”
Laughter bubbled in her throat at his exaggerated leer. “Name your price.”
The fire that flared in his eyes nearly scorched her. “A kiss will do. For now.” He leaned forward, and she raised her face, pulse pounding in anticipation. His lips brushed softly over hers, once, twice, whispers of touches that teased and tantalized and left her aching for more. On his third feathery kiss, she ran her tongue over his bottom lip and was rewarded with a low growl. He sank deeper into their kiss, his tongue gently swirling around hers. She lifted her wet hands and threaded her fingers through his hair, feeling utterly wanton and luxuriously decadent. When he finally lifted his head, he looked dazed and was breathing hard.
“You’ve completely distracted me,” he said.
“I did nothing save sit here,” she said as primly as she could, given she was naked.
“That’s all it takes. You’re…potent.”
A feminine thrill such as she’d never known rushed through her. “If so, it’s because you’re…inspiring.”
“You’re distracting me again,” he said with a mock frown. “Do you want me to open the satchel or not?”
“I do.”
He turned his attention to the leather bundle. She suddenly detected the scent of roses, and seconds later he handed her a bouquet, the stems tied with a length of twine.
“Ethan, they’re beautiful,” she said, taking the offering and bringing it to her nose to breathe deeply. She ran her fingertips over the delicate petals of vivid red, buttery yellow, snowy white, and blush pink. “Such lovely colors. We only returned from our walk less than an hour ago. How did you manage to get these?”
“I cut them from the inn’s rose bushes.”
She looked at him over the top of her bouquet. “Roses are my favorite flower.”
“I know. Which is why I wanted you to have them.”
She dipped her chin, burying her face in the fragrant blooms, so he wouldn’t notice her bottom lip quivering or the fresh moisture threatening to spill from her eyes. “No one has ever brought me flowers,” she whispered. “Thank you, Ethan.”
“You’re welcome. You deserve to receive flowers every day.” He took the bouquet from her and set it on the floor. Then he reached out to once again draw a slow circle over her knee before his fingers dipped lower to glide sinuously down her calf. His heated gaze moved over her with the same lack of haste, and she marveled that he could make her feel as if she were on fire even while submerged in water. His attention lingered on her breasts and her nipples hardened under his intense regard. Sudden shyness assailed her and she made to cover herself, but he shook his head and captured both her hands in one of his, bringing them to his lips.
“Don’t hide from me, Cassie.” Each word was a heated breath against her skin. “Are you enjoying your bath?”
Warmth suffused her cheeks, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away from his compelling eyes. “It’s lovely.”
“From the moment I ordered it, I thought of you—naked and wet.”
His words acted like a spark to dry kindling, shooting fire straight to her womb. “From the moment I was naked and wet, I thought of you.”
Stark, raw hunger smoldered in his gaze, and Cassandra found herself wishing for a cool breeze. So this is what true desire feels like.
Without a word, he plucked the small bar of soap from atop the towel. After dipping the square in the water, he slowly worked a lather between his large hands. When they were coated with soap, he moved behind her. “Lean forward,” he instructed softly.
She did as he bid her, wrapping her arms around her upraised knees, her skin tingling in anticipation. At the first pass of his soap-slicked hands down her wet spine, she gasped, a soft sound that turned into a long purr of pleasure as he slowly kneaded every inch of her back. A sensation of warm relaxation suffused her, melting away years of tension, melting away everything except him, his hands stroking her, scooping warm water over her.
“Lean back, Cassie.”
With a soft sigh, she obeyed, resting her head against the curved lip of the tub. To her delight, he slowly lathered his way down first one arm, then the other, massaging each bit of her skin, each sensitive finger, reducing her to a breathless, boneless mass.
“That feels so…ummm…marvelous,” she said, her voice a husky sigh.
“Your skin is the softest thing I’ve ever touched,” he said, drizzling a handful of water over her upper arm.
“Your hands are the most magical thing I’ve ever felt.”
Once again he lathered his hands, this time working his way over her collarbones, his fingertips dipping into the hollows there and at the base of her throat before inching lower on her chest. When his hands slipped below the water to smooth over her breasts, she gasped, then arched into his touch. She watched his hands curve around her breasts, his thumbs glide over the aroused peaks that seemed to beg for his touch.
She arched again, this time raising her arms up and back to encircle his neck. Turning her head, she pressed a series of nibbling kisses along his jaw.
“You’re distracting me again,” he said, his hands descending to skim over her abdomen.
She sucked in a quick breath. “You’re driving me mad.”
His hands eased between her thighs, and he spread her legs as far apart as the confines of the tub allowed. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no,” she whispered against his lips. “Please, no.”
Her eyes slid closed, and with a pleasure-filled sigh she surrendered her inhibitions and allowed herself to simply feel—the desire to do so was something she’d never experienced with her husband. One of Ethan’s large hands skimmed back up to tea
se her breasts, while his other hand glided deeper beneath the warm water, between her splayed legs. At the first touch of his fingers over her feminine folds, they both groaned. His mouth settled over hers and he kissed her deeply, his tongue slowly mating with hers in a lazy rhythm that matched the leisurely caress of his fingers around her sensitive flesh.
She moaned into his mouth and shifted restlessly against his hand, wanting, needing more, with a growing desperation she’d never before experienced, one she couldn’t control. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, urging him to kiss her deeper as she raised her hips in silent plea for him to touch her deeper.
Yet when he slipped a finger inside her and gently stroked, it still wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel his entire weight on her, his skin next to her. All of him against all of her.
He eased another finger inside her and pressed his palm against her, slowly rotating his hand in a manner that ripped a groan from deep inside her. Exquisite sensations pulsed through her, leaving her awash in currents of pleasure. Mindless, she lifted one leg, hooking it over the edge of the tub to open herself more fully to his touch, then arched upward, straining for the next intoxicating caress. The coil of tension inside her tightened, propelling her toward a dark edge of something…something she desperately wanted that remained elusive, just out of reach, filling her with an edgy pressure that demanded relief.
But then he quickened his rhythm, the gentle tugging on her nipples roughened, the strokes of his tongue and thrust of his fingers deepened, and suddenly her entire body convulsed, dragging a surprised cry from her. Wave after wave of intense pleasure throbbed through her for endless seconds when the only thing that existed was Ethan, the way he was touching her. The way he made her feel. The spasms tapered off and an unprecedented feeling of the most delicious languor stole over her entire body.
She felt his fingers slide from her body, his lips pressing kisses along her jaw.
“Cassie,” he whispered, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe.
It Happened One Night Page 22