Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid - Julie Johnstone Page 0,14

plate one night and was dead.”

She was crying softly now, and he put his arms around her and drew her close. Her head came under his chin, and her soft body pressed along the length of his. A tremor of awareness went through him unlike anything he’d ever known. He wanted to take the sadness from her.

“I tried,” Lilias continued, her voice muffled. She turned her head, pressed her cheek to his chest, and slipped her arms around his waist. He felt her fingers lock behind his back. “I tried to save him, but I couldn’t. And so now—” she paused and tilted her head back to look at him “—I try to save other things.”

Owen. Her dogs. Nash. Did he deserve to be saved? He didn’t think so, but she did because she was a dreamer like her father. She was rare and precious, and she needed someone far better than he was, and yet he found himself leaning toward her, drawn to her goodness, drawn to every single thing about her, from her smile, to her dimples, to the way her hair always looked in lovely, wild disarray, to how she didn’t follow a single dictate that ladies of her upbringing were supposed to. He pressed his forehead to hers, telling himself that if she drew back, he would understand. But she didn’t, and he was filled with hope. Her breath mingled with his, sweet and enticing. He wanted to kiss her. He’d never wanted anything more in his life.

Bringing his hands to her back, he brushed his lips to hers ever so gently to give her time to pull away, to tell him to stop. When she moaned, searing need rushed through him, but he reined it in. He didn’t want to frighten her. He slid his hand up the perfect curve of her spine until his right hand held the slender column of her neck, and his left hand came to her lips. He ran his thumb over her mouth, and when she moaned again, he traced the soft fullness of her lips with his tongue. He’d never felt anything so good in his life.

He had to feel her heat, taste her goodness. He parted her lips with his tongue, half expecting her to stop him, but she tugged him closer, and as his own need mounted, she kissed him with a hunger and a sweetness that made him feel completely alive and as if redemption was possible with her.

“Lilias,” he said, breaking the kiss, wanting to tell her the things in his head. “God, Lilias. You make me feel—”

“Lilias! Nash!” Owen burst through the trees before Nash could react. Owen came to an abrupt stop, his jaw dropping and silence descending. As Lilias and Nash scrambled apart, Owen’s gaze stayed on Nash, narrowing.

“What are you doing here?” Lilias exclaimed.

“Shall I leave?” he asked, his tone sharp.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Lilias burst out, her voice sounding a tad high to Nash. “I, well, I was sad about my father, and Nash was simply—Well, he was simply—”

“Comforting her,” Nash supplied, knowing there was nothing else to be said. They’d had their arms entwined about each other, after all, their faces a hairsbreadth apart.

Owen moved toward Lilias and past Nash, scowling at him. A slight suspicion arose that Nash didn’t even want to acknowledge.

“Lilias, why didn’t you tell me you were sad? I’m here for you,” Owen said, slipping his arm around Lilias’s shoulder.

The urge to throw Owen’s arm off her astonished Nash with its intensity. And when Lilias dipped under Owen’s arm and away, Nash could not suppress the gladness.

“I need to go home,” Lilias murmured. “I, well, I don’t feel well.”

“I’ll walk you,” Nash and Owen offered at the same time.

She shook her head, and Nash said, “We’ll both walk you.”

“No, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” She turned, took a few steps away from them, then turned back. “Owen, what happened to your trip to London?”

“My father took ill. He’s abed, but I had to wait to be certain he was going to stay there before slipping away.”

Lilias nodded. “I see. So you won’t be going to Town anytime soon?”

Nash glanced at her, hearing an odd hitch in her voice. Hopefulness? Maybe he was only hearing what he wanted to hear.

Owen shook his head. “I doubt it. He wrote his solicitor to conclude the business on his behalf.”

“I see.” Nash could not mistake the disappointment he heard in her voice, and when Owen tensed, Nash did, as