“No fair.” She pretended to pout. But before she could complete the face, his hands came up to her waist and his fingers found the sensitive area there. She jumped with a gasp.
“I see that you are.” He tickled her again, his eyes alight with humor.
She couldn’t contain her laughter. As he tickled, she wiggled and shrieked. Finally, breathless, she called, “Stop! I surrender. I won’t ask you to sing the whale song.”
His hands slid away from her sensitive sides and wrapped around her back. “Promise?”
“For today.” She fell against him. “But I make no guarantees for the future.”
He grinned down at her, and she couldn’t keep from admiring the strong chiseled lines and the dark handsomeness of his features.
He languidly studied her face too, and as he did so, his mirth faded. He lifted a hand to her cheek, hesitated only a moment before grazing her skin and making her knees weak. For just an instant his eyes cleared, giving her a glimpse of his feelings for her—the intensity, the passion, and yes, even the love.
As the truth of how much he cared about her sank in, a tremble started in her stomach and rippled to her legs. It wasn’t a tremble of joy. It was one of fear—the same kind of fear she’d felt on her wedding day when she’d been walking out to the carriage and the reality of getting married to Nathaniel had become entirely too imminent.
She turned back to the window, praying that Tom wouldn’t see the fear that haunted her, the fear that she tried never to think about. She forced her mind away from it with practiced ease, pushing any unwelcome thoughts into a closet where they would be contained and chained and forgotten.
“Thanks for letting me see the world from up here.” She peered out the window again.
He didn’t move or say anything for a moment.
“The waves are so majestic and powerful,” she continued. “And the ocean is so endless.”
Still he was quiet.
“I don’t think I’d ever tire of this view.” She was rambling but she couldn’t stop.
He touched her side. Then she felt his body with all its warmth and solidness move behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into his chest. She breathed out the tightness in her lungs and relaxed against him. For a minute, they stood wordlessly watching the ocean, the waves rising and falling, and the dark clouds on the horizon blowing across the sky.
When he brushed a strand of hair back from her neck, she released another sigh, this one of contentment. She’d silenced her fears, and now she basked in the satisfaction of being in his arms. He drew the rest of her hair behind her ear so that her neck and ear were laid bare.
He dipped down, his chin brushing her cheekbone, the scruffy stubble a strange but pleasant sensation. His arms tightened around her, and he lowered his head until his lips skimmed her ear. The touch was feathery light, sending tingles across her skin.
She crossed her arms over his and tilted her head to the side. It was an invitation to linger.
Accepting her offer, his lips dropped to the hollow of her ear. He pressed a kissed there, his breath echoing loudly. It stirred her belly into a swirling whirlpool. After a long tantalizing moment, his lips moved to her earlobe and then grazed her neck.
At the contact, she almost cried aloud. Even though she managed to bite back most of the cry, a small squeak slipped out.
The heat of his ragged breath and the moisture of his lips moved to the arch between her neck and shoulder. This time she couldn’t hold back a gasp. Her small noises only seemed to inflame him. He released a soft moan before turning her and taking possession of her mouth. His lips settled over hers with the fervor she’d been dreaming about since his last kiss.
If she was honest with herself, she’d waited for this moment all week. She’d longed to be connected with him again in this way, to feel his passion, to know that she stirred him the same way he did her.
His kiss deepened, and she arched upward. His hands at her waist splayed as though he wanted all of her. She didn’t know exactly what that meant, had only heard whispers from her friends, especially from Theresa, who had always been bolder than others.