Page 40 of Indecently Daring

“You lost your horse to Kilbane,” she guessed, and Harry avoided her eyes, not wanting to see her revulsion, nor her pity.

“I did. I was out of my head with drink, and I gambled away my dearest friend, and he was my dearest friend, Miss Cadogan. It was a betrayal of the worst sort, for he trusted me to keep him safe as he’d kept me safe on so many occasions. I never forgave myself for that, but Kilbane is a fine horseman. Pirate is in expert hands there, at least. I’d not trust Kilbane within a mile of you or Lady Catherine, but he prefers horses to people, from what I’ve seen. He’s certainly kinder to them.”

He dared a glance at her, to see her studying him with a contemplative expression, not with the aversion he had expected. Well, it would come soon enough, once she’d had time to consider his words.

“Strange, isn’t it, that I’m always confessing to you? I’m certain it ought to be the other way about,” he said with a laugh that sounded a little desperate. “Strange, too, that my parents always intended me for the church, and I did everything in my power to put off the inevitable. I wanted nothing to do with it. I’d wanted the Navy and adventure, but my brother got that option. Anyway, I was speaking of dear old Pirate. I miss him quite terribly, you know, and that awful morning…. God forgive me, but once I sobered up enough to realise what I’d done, I—”

He closed his mouth as his voice quavered, the misery of that day slamming back into him with such force it stole his breath.

“You needn’t tell me anymore, Reverend Martin,” she said softly. “I ought never to have pried, but… but I’m glad you told me, all the same. I shan’t ever speak of it to another soul, I give you my word.”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, you’d best hear it all. Just so we’re clear. You see, when I realised what I’d done, I knew I’d lost my soul. I was going to the devil, and so I figured I’d get on with it and get it over with. So, I just drank. Nothing else. I don’t really remember the rest. Then one day, by some miracle, I woke up to discover I wasn’t dead, though I was in the gutter—quite literally—and an old man was standing over me. He was a vicar,” he said, remembering his mentor with a rush of affection.

“Ah.” Miss Cadogan smiled at him, and suddenly his vile history dissipated, drifting from his mind like so much smoke, chased away by the force of that smile, by the jolt of sheer happiness that surged through him. “And so you were saved.”

Harry nodded, still dazed. “I was saved.”

“I’d like very much to shake that man’s hand.”

“He’d like you,” Harry said, grinning. “The old reprobate.”

“I thought you said he was a vicar?”

“He is. The very best sort of vicar: one who knows we are all flawed, all messy and imperfect, and that God loves us, anyway. He is what I hope to be one day.”

“I think perhaps you already are, Harry.”

He stilled at the use of his given name, yet beneath his exterior everything inside him was a riot of activity. His heart picked up and anticipation thrilled in his blood, his nerve endings all on alert as she reached up and touched his cheek, laying her palm there like a benediction.

“You are a very good man, Harry Martin.”

“Don’t,” he rasped as desire ripped through him, shredding good intentions and straining against the fraying restraints holding his control in place. Her touch was gentle, her palm warm and soft, and yet it burned against his flesh, branding him, marking him as hers, all hers, and he wanted her. He shook his head, finding it suddenly hard to breathe, let alone speak. “Don’t,” he managed again, the word barely more than a growl, but he could not tear his gaze from her mouth, from her plush, soft lips, sweet as vanilla, tempting him to taste her again.

She dropped her hand, a blush scalding her cheeks as mortification lit her eyes.

“I… I beg your pardon,” she said, looking so appalled that he couldn’t stand it, could not let her think that he hadn’t wanted her touch.

He craved it, and he knew a thing or two about craving.

“No, wait,” he said, reaching for her, catching hold of her wrist as she turned away.

A mistake. Idiot. He ought never to have touched her, for now his fingers curved about her wrist, around the warm inch of skin between her glove and her sleeve. Her pulse fluttered beneath his fingertips, too fast, like holding a panicked bird in his palm. His thumb smoothed over the tender flesh of its own accord and her breath hitched, her eyes growing dark and fathomless as she stared up at him.

Stop this. Stop it now.

He heard the voice, heard the words, but he couldn’t make himself move away. It was taking every last bit of his self-control not to pull her against him, not to plunder that delicious mouth and put his hands on her as he so badly wanted to do. This… This was a triumph of restraint, this was willpower working at full tilt, but to ask him to loosen his grip, to move away… impossible. She must do that. Surely, some notion of self-preservation and good sense would kick in at any moment and save him, save them both and that would—

She kissed him.

The movement was so swift and decisive it took his brain a moment to catch up, but then his face was cradled between her hands and her sweet, sinful mouth was pressed against his.

He was going to hell. Except… if he was, they were detouring through heaven, because it was so… so… perfect.

She knew what she was doing. The thought was at once startling and unsurprising. She had been engaged, after all, for some years if he’d understood correctly. A sudden wave of jealousy lanced through him as he considered the man who had taught her to kiss so exquisitely and then she trailed her tongue over his bottom lip, and he didn’t give a damn anymore. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her against him, his breath leaving him all in a rush as she pressed closer. His cock stood to proud attention, impossible for her to mistake, and yet she pressed closer still.

Harry groaned, turning them both around until her back pressed against the altar. She wrapped her arms about his neck, allowing him to kiss her as he wished, as hard and wicked as he desired, and….

The devil take it!