Then they were alone—truly alone—for the first time since he’d returned from Paris.
Maddie drifted closer, the heavy silk swirling about her legs, and he tried not to think about how little they each wore at the moment. Rays of moonlight played off the angles of her cheeks and highlighted her delicate nose and full lips. He’d studied every inch of her face over the years, mapped her every expression and catalogued each of her smiles. She was stunning, like a burst of sunlight on the cold darkness blanketing his soul.
She leaned a hip against the balustrade. “That seemed cozy. Sharing a smoke? And she called you Harrison. Have we found Mrs. Harrison Archer?”
He cleared his throat and tried to match her relaxed posture. “She met a man on the beach for a midnight swim. It’s safe to say she’s spoken for.”
“Oh, I sense that’s nothing serious. Furthermore, I think the two of you are well matched.”
“She’s good fun, I suppose, but I’d be gray before the age of thirty if I married that woman. She’ll lead a husband to an early grave.”
“Does that mean she has been eliminated?”
“Yes, on mutual agreement.”
“That’s progress, I suppose.” They stood in silence. “What do you think of the other ladies thus far?”
That they pale in comparison to you.
Instead of the truth, he hedged. “Too soon to tell, really. They all seem nice enough.”
“But you think Nellie is fun.”
“Not as fun as you, of course. There was a reason why you were the most popular girl in Newport growing up.”
“That’s hardly true, but very sweet of you to say.”
“We’re all quite proud of you, you know.”
“Who, and whatever for?”
“Me, Kit, Preston. You’ve poured your heart and soul into your tennis pursuits. Kit used to send me your clippings.” Even though Harrison had repeatedly told Kit to stop.
“I had no idea.”
“He never told you?”
“No,” she said. “They never mentioned you at all.”
Well, that stung. “Probably for the best. I’m not a rising tennis celebrity, after all.”
“Not for a lack of skill. You always had a wicked backhand.” She pointed to his hand. “May I try your cigar?”
“What?”
“Your cigar. May I smoke it?”
Maddie was not a smoker or a drinker. In fact, he’d never seen her impaired or inebriated. What was she up to? “Why?”
“It sounds fun. Plus, I like the way it smells. May I?”
Was she trying to prove something? “Maddie . . .”
“Harrison . . .” she replied in the same tone. “What happened to the boy who dared me to climb out onto the roof to see how far the ocean went? Not to mention that you let Nellie. Why not me?”
He held out the cigar to her. “Here. Draw the smoke into your mouth, not your lungs.”
“So suck on the end but don’t breathe it in?”
“Exactly.”
Wrapping her lips around the outside, she drew in some smoke, her cheeks hollowing slightly.
Oh, sweet Christ.
Lust tore through his gut at the sight. His cigar in her mouth was erotic. Mesmerizing. Downright torture. He couldn’t help but picture his cock between her lips as she sucked on him, an image his body liked very much, apparently, as all the blood rushed to his groin.
Briefly closing his eyelids, he took a deep breath and struggled for self-control.
Smoke teased his nostrils as she exhaled. “Hmm. I like that.”
He took the cigar from her and immediately put the end to his mouth, putting his lips in the exact same spot her lips had just touched. Drawing in, he tasted the smoke and tried not to think about all the other things he’d like to taste at this moment. “Go easy.”
She plucked the cigar from his fingers and took another puff, exhaling smoke. “Why?”
He swallowed, stared at her mouth and willed his body not to react further. “Smoking can cause nausea the first time if you aren’t careful.”
“No, I meant why did you leave without telling me?” She handed the cigar back.
Of course she wanted to know why he’d disappeared. Truthfully, there hadn’t been any other choice. Adrift and alone, his heart shattered, disinherited from his family . . . What option had been left but to escape?
He couldn’t tell her the real reasons, however. Not about overhearing her that night, and not about coming home to catch his father fucking a maid in the salon. Winthrop Archer had claimed the maid was willing, but that was nothing more than an egregious lie by a man who felt entitled to take advantage of a woman in his employ. Harrison called the police but his father had merely paid off the officers, with the maid unwilling to press charges. And who could have blamed her, with her livelihood on the line?
Winthrop had kicked Harrison out on the spot. You are no longer welcome here. You are dead to me and to this family.
After that, Harrison had only wanted to get away from everything—his family, Maddie and himself.
But he couldn’t explain half of it without explaining the rest. The two events were linked, like dominoes, falling and changing the course of his life. While Maddie might be exhibiting a tiny bit of jealousy in regard to him, he couldn’t risk total honesty . . . not until he knew how she felt about him.
It was better to dodge the question.
He took the cigar back. “You know I’m not one for sentimentality.”
Surprise and hurt flashed over her face. Her brows lowered dangerously. “That is your answer? Are you joking?”
“I couldn’t think of what to say. At the time, you were busy with your season and I assumed you’d marry and . . .” He shrugged. “It seemed best just to go.”
“How about, ‘Dear Maddie, leaving for Paris. Will be having too much fun to write. Enjoy your life’?”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“For three years?”
“I apologize, Mads. It was selfish of me.”
“Exactly, and—” She began weaving on her feet. “Whoa.”
Concerned, he reached to steady her. “Are you all right?”
Without thinking, he cupped her jaw and tilted her head back to see her face. The touch was unexpectedly intimate, their bodies alarmingly close, and when their eyes met, they both seemed to pause. The skin beneath his hand was soft, like the petals of a flower, and she smelled of the ocean and lavender. He could drown in the emerald fire of her gaze, familiar yet so mysterious. He wanted to learn every secret she kept buried, give her every little thing her heart desired.
The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips as her hooded stare focused on his mouth, and Harrison sucked in a breath. Did she want him to kiss her? He studied her lips and ached to know her taste. To delve inside and feel her slickness. Stroke her tongue with his own and swallow down her little whimpers.
Let me. Dear God, please let me.
“Maddie . . .” It came out as a whispered plea.
That seemed to snap her out of the moment. Blinking, she pulled away, and his arms dropped to his sides. She cleared her throat. “Forgive me. I grew dizzy for a moment.”
Yes, so did I.