Not just Wilcox, but the housekeeper and two footmen and maids were giving the chamber a thorough clean. Tobias cursed under his breath. Where were Leopold and the duchess? They were trapped in here until they returned and shooed the servants away.
He glanced down at Blythe. She still trembled with fear, her hands clutched at his arm about her waist. He leaned down so his lips were beside her ear. “Servants. We have to wait a bit.”
She turned in his arms and gripped his waistcoat. A small moan escaped her lips and, worried that further sounds might be overheard, he shuffled them to the rear of the chamber. He had to calm Blythe down and fast.
Tobias drew her tighter into his arms. She didn’t protest. He thought she may not even be aware of his actions. Her breathing grew ragged and she clutched at him. Very gently, Tobias lifted her chin and cupped her face with one hand. Her expression was usually so perfect and serene, but her eyes were swimming with panic. They couldn’t risk discovery so, desperate, he did the only thing he could think of.
He set his lips to hers and kissed her.
At first, she stilled like that moment in battle just before cannonballs smashed the ship apart as if they were made of paper and not wood. He brushed his lips against hers; fully aware that if she were in her right mind she’d clobber him with whatever fell to hand for taking such liberties. Her lips were soft, cool against his. She didn’t pull away or protest. Emboldened, he teased her mouth open and sealed his lips over hers.
After a moment, her arms curled up around his neck and she kissed him back, tongue sliding into his mouth in an intimate dance. She’d forgotten to be scared. She’d forgotten to be proper. She’d forgotten everything except sensations and damned if Tobias didn’t feel the same. He brought his hands up her back and slid them down again. Devil take it, she felt good in his arms. Too good, as he’d suspected she would. Although tempted to take things further, he forced his hands to be still again.
She moaned a little against his mouth and he tightened his grip at her waist. It might be the right thing to do, but Tobias didn’t want to stop kissing Blythe. She responded to him with extraordinary passion. But he had to stop. He’d kissed Blythe to calm her, to distract her from the sensation of being trapped. If he’d succeeded then he really should end this before it went too far.
Reluctantly, he drew away. Their eyes met and a bright wash of color flooded her face. She backed up a step and then more until she leaned against the far wall of the chamber. Tobias remained still, uncertain what she would do next. Her hand rose to cover her flushed lips as she stared at him. Her eyes widened impossibly and then squeezed shut.
He’d have to consider his distraction a success. Her gaze no longer darted about the chamber. Now, she couldn’t bear to look at anything.
He picked a book at random from an upper shelf and settled against the edge of the table to read it. After a few moments of silence, Blythe followed suit, taking the chair beside him and flicking open to the first page. She didn’t appear inclined to berate him about that kiss, but she did seem a great deal calmer. He smiled. At least he could put his love of kissing to good use for a worthy cause. He’d be more than happy to kiss her again if the ideal situation arose.
Eight
If the world ended tomorrow, it couldn’t come soon enough. Blythe could not believe that she had just been kissed by Tobias Randall and that she’d actually enjoyed the exchange. She pressed her knees together, fighting her arousal. Where had her mind been?
She stole a glance at the man beside her. Tobias appeared relaxed enough to lean against the table, flipping idly through his book. There was no trace of lust about him; he ignored her presence as if he hadn’t had his tongue in her mouth or his hands all over her body just moments before. Did he go around kissing women as if such an act meant nothing to him at all?
To Blythe it was the ultimate betrayal of her wedding vows. The very first time she had wanted another man to keep kissing her instead of wishing for her husband, Raphael. She longed to run from what she’d just done, but the servants were still rattling around outside the doorway in the drawing room and she was trapped with Tobias Randall.
Yet the sense of terror this room usually provoked had fled. And all because the pirate had kissed her witless. His warmth had filled her chilled soul until she’d forgotten everything except the feel of him against her body, his hands cradling her against his broad chest. She shook her head. What a mistake to have made.
Tobias leaned toward her. “I’ll check and see if they are done.”
His words were whispered, close against her ear, and goose flesh raced across her skin. A bad sign. A very bad condition to be in for a proper lady.
With Tobias across the chamber peering through the peephole, she relaxed marginally and dropped her head into her hands. Stupid, ridiculous thing to have done. Tobias Randall wasn’t the kind of man who she should be affected by at all.
She jumped as his hand settled on the back of her neck. Warmth radiated from his fingers as he brushed them over her nape, turning up the flames of her embarrassment. She was well aware that she had not once tried to end the kiss. His fingers kneaded her skin for a few moments and that was all it took for longing to return in full force. She fought to remain still and show no sign of her discomfort.
His lips skimmed her ear. “Unfortunately, they are being very thorough with their duties today. I wonder what’s come over them.”
She leaned into his touch, but then straightened her spine. What was she doing encouraging him to continue? She should be put him in his place and maintain a proper distance between them.
Tobias crouched down beside the chair. Their eyes met and held. His appeared to glow in the half light. “When we get you out of here I will stand still for any punishments you’d care to inflict,” he whispered. “But until then don’t brush aside the comfort you need to remain calm in this place.”
His fingertips brushed over her cheek; his gaze fell to her lips. B
lythe pressed them together lest she ask him to kiss her again. The corner of his mouth lifted as if he understood what her action meant. The pad of his thumb skimmed forward to the corner of her mouth. She parted her lips as need, unfamiliar and unwanted, flooded her again. She closed her eyes to block out the image of him sitting at her feet in wait of an invitation to another kiss.
He was certainly willing. His breath roughened to a pant; his hand settled on her leg, but did not wander any higher. He was poised for more if she gave him one word of encouragement. Blythe kept herself rigidly in place.
He was nothing like her late husband. Thinking of the life she’d shared with Raphael, the tenderness of the marriage bed, the symmetry of their thoughts, doused Blythe’s impossible attraction to Tobias Randall. She was Raphael’s widow.
That was enough.
Tobias withdrew his hands from her body and heaved a heavy sigh. When he stood without saying a word, Blythe missed his warmth immediately. But it was for the best. She shouldn’t encourage him when there was no possibility for more between them. She was not a loose woman and would never take a casual lover. She focused on the page before her, but her mind lingered on the comfort he’d given her. She must truly be mad to want Tobias Randall to touch her again. He was everything Raphael was not. Rude, unrefined, bold in expressing his desires for pleasure.
After this, he would certainly expect more than kisses if they were alone. She’d have to keep her door locked and avoid him at all costs. Sadness filled her. She missed Raphael fiercely, but she was also angry with him for dying so soon. The best life had to offer had already passed her by. She hadn’t known what she’d had until he was gone and Tobias Randall had reminded her with one simple kiss.