Page 10 of The Wedding Challenge

“Still, it was good of you to come after us.”

“Any man would have done the same.”

“No,” she demurred with a smile. “Not all.” She glanced down at their joined hands. “You still have my hand, sir.”

“Yes, I know. Do you wish me to give it back?” His voice deepened sensually.

Callie looked up, and her insides quivered at the look in his eyes. “I—no, not really.”

“Good, for neither do I.” Softly his thumb stroked the back of her hand, and though it was only a small movement, Callie felt its effect all through her.

“And now that I have sent that blackguard packing…I think it must be worth a small favor, don’t you?”

“What favor?” Callie asked a little breathlessly. He seemed very near her; she could feel the heat of his body, smell the faint scent of masculine cologne. Her heart hammered in her chest, but it was not from fear as it had been moments earlier. It was anticipation that welled up in her now.

“Your name, my lady.”

“Calandra,” she answered softly.

“Calandra,” he repeated softly, lingering over the syllables. “’Tis a magical name.”

“Not so magical,” she said. “And those who are close to me call me Callie.”

“Callie.” He lifted his other hand and slid his thumb along her jawline. “It suits you.”

“But now we are unequal, for I do not know your name.”

“Bromwell. Those who are close to me call me Brom.”

“Brom,” she breathed. Her flesh tingled where his thumb touched it, sending delicious tendrils of sensation spiraling through her.

“It sounds much lovelier on your lips.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, and warmth blossomed deep in Callie’s abdomen. His eyes followed the movement of his thumb, and the light in them sparked higher, his own lips softening.

He leaned closer, and Callie was certain that he intended to kiss her. But she did not hesitate or pull away. Instead, boldly, she stretched up to meet him.

His lips closed on hers, and heat seemed to explode within her. She trembled, every nerve in her body suddenly alive and attuned to the slow, delicious movement of his mouth on hers. She had never felt anything like this before. Though one or two men had dared to steal a kiss from her, none of those kisses had felt like this—so soft and hot, her lips so sensitive to the velvet pressure of his. And none of those men had ever moved his mouth against her, opening her lips to his questing tongue, startling her and sending a wave of intense pleasure through her.

She made a low noise of surprise and eagerness, and her hands slid up instinctively around his neck, holding on to him as his arms wrapped fiercely around her, squeezing her against his long, hard body. The elegant plume of his hat brushed against her cheek, and that touch, too, aroused the sensitive nerves of her skin. He made a noise of hunger and frustration, reaching up to jerk the hat from his head and toss it aside as his lips pressed harder against hers.

Callie’s fingers dug into the rich material of his doublet. She felt as if she were falling, tumbling into some wild maelstrom of hunger and desire, and she was all at once eager and frightened and more vibratingly alive than she had ever been before. She could feel his body surge with heat through the material of his clothes, enveloping her with his warmth.

Suddenly he lifted his head, sucking in a deep breath and staring down at her. Reaching down, he took her half mask between his fingers and pushed it up, revealing her face.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed. Then he reached up and took off his own mask, holding it dangling in his hand.

Callie gazed up at him, realizing with some surprise that his face was even more arresting without the dramatic mask. Sharp, high cheekbones balanced the strong jaw, and the straight dark slashes of his brows accented his wide gray eyes. It was the face of an angel, she thought with a poeticism uncommon to her—not an angel of harps and fluffy clouds, but the fierce sort, standing guard at the gates of heaven with a fiery sword.

“So are you,” she answered him candidly, then blushed at the naive candor of her words.

Something flared in his eyes, and he let out a shaky little chuckle. “My dear Calandra…it is much too dangerous for you to be out here alone with me.”

“Do you think I cannot trust you?” she asked, the tone of her voice making clear her own belief.

“I think ’tis dangerous to trust any man when you look as you look…and feel as you feel.” His voice turned husky on his last words, and he ran his palm down her arm slowly, reluctantly, and pulled his hand away, taking a step backward. “We should go inside.”

He returned her mask, and Callie took it. She hated to turn away from him, away from this moment and the new feelings that were surging through her. Yet at the same time, his urging her to do so only strengthened what she felt for him. She smiled at him.

“Perhaps you would like the rest of my name.”