of me, pressing his solid body into my own.
I caressed his shoulders, but it wasn't enough. Hanging propriety, I pulled off my gloves and sighed as my skin came in contact with his thick, tousled hair. In response, Morgan pressed me farther back, his arms circling around my waist but never remaining still — caressing my arms, my hips, and finally plunging into my hair as he demanded more and more from my kiss.
Feeling bolder, I pressed myself against his hardened body and gasped for breath as his hands squeezed and kneaded my hips. Delicious sensations of heat licked through my body, and I didn't know if I could stop the whirlwind of desire. I wasn't sure if I was strong enough, or if I even wanted to be.
"Jocelyn, please," he begged, leaving my ravished lips and trailing his moist and demanding kisses down my neck and to my collarbone.
"Morgan," I whimpered, lost, unable to form any other thought.
"No," he said, then growled fiercely as he pulled himself away with a savage movement. "No, Jocelyn. I can't. You mustn't let me," he whispered hoarsely.
Suspicion wove its way into my heart as sensed the loss of heat from his body. Feeling insecure, I gazed down, noticing how my hair tumbled around my face. How am I going to fix that? I thought distractedly as I chanced a glance at Morgan.
"Please understand that I never meant to…" His words trailed off and my blood went cold. "It was never my intention to compromise you in such a way," he began again.
Compromise? He'd never meant to compromise me? He didn't… No. No, no, no, no. I refused to believe it. Hadn't he just admitted to being afraid he'd have to watch me marry someone else?
"I have to leave." He spoke suddenly, breaking my confusion.
"What?" I asked, fear growing and doubt blossoming in my heart.
"I have to go; I have… business to attend to at my estate in Derbyshire."
"Oh" I spoke softly, searching his eyes in hope for more of an explanation.
He dropped his chin to his chest and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm doing this all wrong. Forgive me?" he asked, desperation obvious in his gaze.
"For what?" I whispered.
A lady's giggle and man's laughter broke our intense conversation. Morgan pressed me once again into the tree. "Shhh," he whispered. He stayed perfectly still till the couple went far enough out of sight. His anxiety was evident. Gone was the passion, replacing it was a stoic self-control. As he checked the scenery for other amorous couples, shivers overtook my body.
"Come, Jocelyn, let's get you inside. You're shaking, love."
Silently, we walked back to the house. "I'll fix this," he promised. I wanted so badly to ask what he was referring to, but I didn't get a chance to speak. He began giving me directions to a secluded ladies' washroom to clean up. Leaning down, he brushed my lips with a chaste kiss that made me want to cry. How had the evening gone from stellar in the romance department to me feeling depressed enough to cry myself to sleep for a month?
Morgan escorted me to the hall before promising to see me in a few days. Hope flickered at his affirmation of his return, but why was he leaving in the first place? What did it have to do with me? Afraid to ask and suddenly fighting tears, I nodded numbly and all but ran to the washroom. After cleaning up the considerable damage Morgan had so deliciously inflicted upon my hair and gown, I skirted my way into the ballroom.
"You can clean up all you want, scrub yourself clean, but you'll never be good enough," said the last voice I ever wanted to hear.
"Arynna." I spoke through clenched teeth as I turned around.
"Jocelyn," she countered with a syrupy smile that set my teeth on edge. "It's over. You might as well go home. He compromised you and is leaving. You are officially ruined." She smiled with unabashed triumph.
Unwilling to let her see how her words affected me, I glared at her and tried to pass, but she wouldn't let me. "I don't think you understand." She spoke in lofty tones as she circled me like a lioness stalking her prey, her eyes full of hatred I didn't deserve. "Your reign as a darling of the ton is now over. The very people who flocked to invite you to parties will cut you in the streets. They will gossip behind your back, and