Page 69 of Elizabeth Bennet Says Yes to Mr. Darcy

“I can leave.”

Fear shot through me—what if he interpreted my unease as refusal?

“I didn't ask you to.”

“No.”

“Then come.”

He approached slowly. When he stopped in front of me, I placed my hand on the lapel of his dressing gown.

“You're nervous,” I said.

“Terribly.”

“That reassures me.”

“I'm glad my weakness is useful to you.”

“It makes you human.”

“I shall endeavor to be so all night.”

I laughed, and the tension eased slightly.

He raised a hand to my cheek.

“May I kiss you?”

“You're my husband.”

“That's not an answer.”

I thought of the promise he'd made me in the woods.

“Yes.”

His lips settled on mine. The kiss was tender at first. He gave me time to recognize his taste, the warmth of his hand against my neck, the shiver already rising beneath my skin. Then his mouth opened further. I wrapped my arms around him.

He nearly lifted me against his body.

The thin nightgown concealed nothing of his arousal. I felt it against my belly and pulled back in surprise.

He released me immediately.

“Forgive me.”

“Don't apologize for what I knew I would find.”

“Knowing and feeling aren't the same thing.”

“No.”

I lowered my eyes to his belt, then struggled to raise them again.

“I want to learn.”

An intense emotion crossed his face.