Page 38 of The Blacksmith

“Wait.”

Only a monster would ignore the vulnerability in her voice.

And he was no monster. For all his faults, Lance was not his father.

“I . . .”

He turned back, understanding. She wanted to be alone with him as much as he wished to be alone with her. But wanting did not make a thing possible.

“Why did you stay?”

Goddammit.

Why did she have to ask such a simple, logical question?

“I’m sorry about that night. I should never have kissed you.”

It was as blatant a lie as he’d ever told.

“Then why did you?”

“Idalia,” he started, and then stopped. This was more dangerous than she realized.

“Tell me,” she demanded as if she’d been raised to make demands and have them honored.

Because she had. His lady was an earl’s daughter. She practically ran Stanton Castle.

“Never in my short life have I wanted to kiss a woman more than I did that night. Than I do now.”

Lance forgot to be cautious as he moved toward her.

“More than that, I would like nothing more than to lay you down on that altar, strip you of every bit of clothing, and show you much, much more than a simple kiss.”

He stood so close now Lance could smell the unique scent of citrus blossom that was Lady Idalia of Stanton.

“What,” she asked, swallowing, “would you show me?”

The combination of curiosity and fear in her tone, in her gaze, told him she knew this was wrong. It was madness, really. But she asked, so he answered.

“I would show you every song your body is capable of singing. I would show you what it means to die the little death and come back to life. I would show you all of me.”

That last bit, he’d not meant to say.

But it was true. For once, Lance wanted to share himself with someone. Somehow, he knew she’d not judge him for the sins he’d committed.

“I would like that,” she said simply.

Lance shook his head. “As would I. But we cannot.”

His actions and words were at odds, and Lance knew it well. For even as he continued to shake his head in denial of what could not be, he reached for her.

She came to him, and melded with him as if she belonged there.

Capturing her mouth, Lance immediately slanted for better access. He simply could not get enough of her, the kiss quickly spiraling out of control as he spun them around so her back was against the old altar.

And then he did something utterly mad.

Staring at her low neckline all night, he’d dreamed of this . . . although he had not imagined it would actually happen. Particularly not in an old chapel.