terrible scandals, when if they’d just stopped….
Except the idea of stopping was impossible, and now it all became blindingly clear.
She wanted Max, wanted to feel his skin upon hers, to feel the weight of his large body pressing her down. An ache had begun inside her, both pleasant and tormenting, a clamouring need for him, a hollow, empty sensation that begged for completion, for him to complete her—to complete them.
“Max, oh, Max,” she whimpered, tugging her skirts out of the way and climbing over him, straddling his legs.
“Phoebe, darling, wait… don’t… Oh, God!”
Phoebe gasped as she sat down and discovered just how perfectly the two of them could fit together as a jolt of pure pleasure lanced through her. Though she’d trapped a layer of petticoats beneath her on top of all his clothes, she could feel quite clearly the evidence of his desire, just where she needed to feel it.
She stared at him with a mixture of delight and shock.
“Good heavens, Max.”
“Don’t move,” he commanded her, his voice sounding odd and rather strangled.
Though her ears heard the words, they did not seem to connect to her brain and Phoebe was running all on instinct now, her instinct being to press closer.
Max groaned, his hands fastening on her hips and holding her still.
“Don’t. Move.” He sounded rather terse now.
“B-But I want to,” Phoebe protested. “Don’t you want me to?”
“Holy God, yes!” he exclaimed. “But we’re not wed yet and I’m damned if I will face your father with you unmarried and… and debauched!”
“Oh, Max,” Phoebe said, smiling at him and sighing. “You are funny.”
“Hilarious,” he muttered, sliding her from his lap as he stood and cracked his head on the beam for a second time. “Damnation!”
“Oh, good heavens! Max, you really must come and lie down on the bed. I think you will give yourself a concussion if you do that again.”
She watched him cautiously as he clutched at his head. He took a deep breath and she had the strong sense he was counting to ten, or possibly a thousand.
“Are you all right?”
“Perfectly.”
There was a taut silence.
“I really do think—”
“Phoebe, if you ask me to go to bed with you again, I shan’t be responsible for the consequences.”
Phoebe pondered this statement.
“Oh, don’t you dare,” he said, though he was laughing now.
“Well,” she said, moving closer to reach for his hand. “You ought not dare me. You know that, don’t you?”
Max made an amused sound, and she watched as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. It was old and crumpled and the writing very faded. He handed it to her.
“What’s this? Do something out of character,” she read aloud. “Max?”
“It’s a dare from that hat.”
“The hat? Oh! You took one?” Phoebe had to admit she was shocked that he would do such a thing.
He nodded, a slightly cautious look in his eyes. “You said I’d never do such a thing and… and I was rather hurt you thought me such a hen-hearted fellow.”
“So you took a dare,” she said softly, her heart aching as she realised just how often she must have hurt him with her indifference. The writing blurred and she tucked it carefully back in his pocket. “That’s why you came.”
“Only in part,” he said. “I… I just wanted you to notice me, Phoebe. I didn’t care what I had to do to achieve that.”
Phoebe blinked hard. “I’m sorry for… for not….”
He shook his head and pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t be.”
She took his hand away and put it to her cheek, kissing the palm tenderly.
“I’ve noticed you now,” she said, a little mischievously.
“It’s a miracle,” he replied, grinning. “And I suspect I have a concussion, and it’s likely you’re going to kill me before this is over, but I don’t care. Only, I do care that I treat you right, love. I’ve waited this long….”
Phoebe frowned, rather miffed by this attitude. They would be married, after all. Just not today.
He noted her frown and touched his hand to her chin, raising her face to his and brushing a tender kiss over her mouth. Phoebe sighed as he released her.
“You have no idea how my poor ego is soothed by your displeasure, Miss Barrington,” he murmured. “Though, we could solve both of our problems, and get married at once.”
For a moment, Phoebe’s heart leapt at the idea. They could marry in France and….
She shook her head.
“I can’t,” she said sadly. “I wish I could, but…. No, Max. I must be married