Page 105 of Flirting with Forever

“The Guild won’t allow it. And in any case, the me you know will be placed in a new life, never to return to these old bones.”

She struggled for air. “I-I’ll never see you again.”

He shook his head sadly.

“No. No! I’ll go to them. I’ll—”

“No, Campbell, no. You’ll do exactly this. You’ll go home to Jacket. It would be best for all of us. You’ll wear his ring. You’ll take him to your bed, and you’ll help him learn to make you happy. That is the best gift you can give me.”

“Is that what you want?” The blood began to ring in her ears.

“Campbell, you know it’s true. His art is good, that much I can tell you truly, and you saw the goodness in him once. You’ll see it again. I’m the only obstacle.”

“You have a damned high opinion of yourself.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“My heart is the obstacle,” she said. “I can’t love him. Not now.”

“Campbell…”

“I choose you, Peter. Now.”

Before she could think, his arms were around her, clutching her tightly. The heady scent of his skin—soap and paint—filled her head.

“This is so selfish,” he said into her hair. “God, forgive me.”

“And me as well.”

His grip grew so tight Cam felt her breath gather in her chest. It was as if he were trying to hold the seconds time was tearing from them.

“We can’t stop them,” she whispered. “The moments will go. But we can master them. We can hold each in our arms until it surrenders itself to us.”

“Surrender to me.” He pulled her onto the couch and spread her across his lap. “I want to paint you.”

“Here?” She brushed his cheek and saw her hand was trembling.

“No. There isn’t time. Later. And often. And forever. But to do that I need to see you, to memorize you, to possess you with every sense.”

She squirmed. He was granite beneath her. “How?”

“Your hair,” he said. “Let me unpin it. Please.”

She bowed her head slightly, and he inhaled. With a gentle tug, the first pin slid free. The curl tumbled down her shoulder, almost to her breast.

“Oh, God. ’Tis just how I remember it.”

Rocking her gently, he removed the second, third, and fourth. Cam’s skin turned to gooseflesh.

“Breathtaking,” he said. “Rust and paprika and umber and even rich Kentish loam—all filtered through bars of heavenly gold. May I?”

She nodded, and he drew his hands through the waves, scattering them like rays of sunlight.

“Oh, Christ, how I’ve wanted this.” He fumbled under her skirt and found his buckle. The clack-clack as he loosened it made her belly contract. When he’d lowered his trousers, he lifted her effortlessly, slid her panties aside, and entered her.

She came down slowly. Each movement brought her an exquisite heat that reached almost to her throat. He dandled her slowly, drawing his luminous gaze over her body, and her silk skirt sizzled as its slippery weight resettled again and again over his hips.

His palms grazed her nipples, hardening them into rubies.