Page 45

They sat by the hearth, the blazing fire illuminating their features.

Helen had seen Lord McAllistair a few times before. But now, in this intimate atmosphere, it was as if she was learning him anew. His straight nose and sharp cheekbones were emphasized by the light of the fire. His gaze was penetrating. It was a fanciful thought, but it seemed to her as though he was looking straight into her soul.

It didn’t help that the man seemed to read her mind. Whenever she started to feel uncomfortable, he did something to take her mind off it.

For instance, just as her thoughts started to drift, he reached his hand out toward the metal footman and picked a cherry up from the bowl.

He held it up between his fingers, studying it with a thoughtful expression before popping it into his mouth. His lips closed around it, and Helen couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest at the sight.

Lord McAllistair caught her gaze and smirked, knowing exactly the effect he had on her. Slowly, he plucked another cherry from the bowl and held it out to her.

“Consider this to be my kiss,” he whispered as he rolled the cherry against the seam of her lips.

The moment his fingers brushed against her skin, a jolt of lightning shot through her body.

Helen opened her mouth and tipped the cherry inside with her tongue.

She closed her eyes as the mix of sweet and sour splashed against her tongue inside her mouth, and she couldn’t help but sigh with pleasure. For some strange reason, this berry seemed the sweetest, and the juiciest one she’d ever had.

She opened her eyes to McAllistair’s charming smile that made that adorable dimple appear at the corner of his mouth. She couldn’t help it, she wanted to lick it.

Licking is not the same as kissing, is it?

Helen swallowed a chuckle. She was the one who’d asked for no kisses, so she’d keep her tongue to herself.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked in his low, shiver-inducing voice.

Helen’s entire body flushed hot, her cheeks practically burning from the heat. McAllistair’s smile deepened as his eyes glinted with self-satisfaction. “Good.”

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Their bodies now touched from hip to chest with Helen’s arms instantly wrapping around his broad shoulders.

The pleasant scent of bergamot mixed with the already familiar scent of clean male and soap. Helen nudged his cheek with her nose, then burrowed her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

He smelled divine. But more than that, his scent had a calming effect on her.

He brushed his fingers over her shoulder, slipping her gown from her body. It fell slowly, the cool silk gliding down her arm.

He pulled away from her, his gaze running down her body. As Helen straightened, the gown fell even further, exposing her breast. She moved her arm to cover herself, but he caught her hand and brought it to his lips.

Helen’s breath caught in her throat. Was he going to break his promise?

One part of her wished he would.

The other part screamed in protest.

Instead, he just closed his eyes and rubbed her knuckles against his lips.

Helen’s breath caught in her lungs. No other man had ever been so absorbed by her, and she was just as absorbed by him.

Lord McAllistair was a mystery that she wanted to unravel, and she could feel him pulling her in with every passing moment. He opened his eyes, so dark, like the sea during a storm, and an answering storm brewed inside Helen.

McAllistair took another cherry and traced her lips with it, tickling her, teasing her, making her entire body tense in agitation.

“Bite it,” he whispered hoarsely, and as she was about to comply, he pulled away with a chuckle. “Just a little.”

Helen narrowed her gaze on him. Oh, the teasing devil. Then she leaned in and bit the cherry in half.

He looked at the half between his fingers with such a curiosity, as if he’d never seen a cherry in his life. But when he met Helen’s gaze, it was filled with wicked fire.