Page 62 of Homeless

Darcy’s face drained. His jaw slackened, and he dropped the cravat he had been holding, then bent to scoop it up. “Show you? As in… you want me to… to teach you how to kiss?”

“That is the general idea, yes, because now I have got it in my head you think I might damage you whenever I touch you, we shall never pass off as a proper couple, even with this sham of a ring. We barely got through the checkpoint at Calahorra with no proper stamp. And, as you claim we could never pass as siblings, either, then we must find a way to mend the problem. Unless you prefer to go about as the sort of couple who can hardly abide each other’s company. That is a situation with which I am all too familiar, but there… I think if my parents were travelling about Spain and someone happened upon my mother — she is still rather handsome, you know — my father would have cheerfully sold her to the highest bidder, and she would have only lamented having to leave her good teapot behind.”

He was kneading the bridge of his nose now. “Pray, do not compare us to your parents.”

“Well?”

Darcy’s shoulders sagged. “Very well. Only do not —”

“Yes, yes, I know. Do not enjoy myself overmuch. Fear not, Mr Darcy, I had not intended to.”

“That is not what I meant to say. Do not touch my ribs again. You have quite done me in with the bandaging.” He tossed the cravat on the bed and stepped towards her.

Her brow creased. “Right, then. Shall I stand on a box to reach you?”

He was moving closer, his eyes holding hers. “You managed that part well enough before.”

“I did, rather. Well, I await your instruction, sir.” She closed her eyes, puckered her lips, and tilted her chin up.

She felt the heat of his body as he stepped closer. A few seconds later, his fingertips found her chin, but she waited, and nothing more happened.

“Relax your jaw. You are like a block of wood.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes. “But I thought —”

His mouth closed over hers.

All she could think of was trying to breathe and finding him there instead. She drew back slightly, and he followed, his upper lip fitting between hers and his lower lip creating the faintest pull. His breath warmed hers, and she discovered he was easing her jaw open, claiming territory she had not yet decided to cede.

Oh, no, this was not…

Terrifying was almost the right word. But not entirely. She had not the means to comprehend it, the way he was drawing her into himself and making her a part of him. Only that it was… well, it was not nearly as unpleasant a duty as she had been prepared for, and that made it dangerous. Her breath quickened, and she tensed, her mouth going rigid.

He pulled away as if she had slapped him again. “I might remind you this was your idea.” His voice was hoarse.

“And so, it was. I only…” She cleared her throat. “You surprised me, that is all. Again.”

He studied her, as if trying to decide if she were telling the truth. “You must relax, Elizabeth. Even breaths. You needn’t act as if you are plunging under water.”

“Right.”

“And you know I would never…”

“Never what?” she whispered. She leaned a little closer.

His face reddened. Fitzwilliam Darcy was blushing. He swallowed once and wetted his lips. “If you ask me to stop…”

She nodded. “You have yet to misuse me. I did not expect you to start now.”

He found her jaw with his fingers again and gently drew her to him. This time, when his lips brushed hers, he moved with almost aching slowness. There was a sweep, and a shiver, and heat… so much heat. She felt the inner part of his lips, the moisture sliding over hers, seeking, pressing for more.

“Let me open your mouth,” he whispered. “Relax, Elizabeth.”

She swallowed, then somehow found the muscles responsible for locking down on him and forced them to ease. She let him in, and he came.

His hand was cradling the back of her head now, the other one grazing her cheek and tracing her chin. He was leading her like in a dance — advance, caress, retreat, breathe, advance. With each stroke of his mouth, she found herself mellowing, permitting new depth, shuddering the first time the tip of his tongue touched hers, and never again shrinking. No, it was too late to shrink away now.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured against her lips.