attempt. His warning still rang in her mind, and she knew she could not afford to provoke him again. She would have been wiser to offer him her lips in front of everyone just now rather than risk this.
She was too vulnerable, she thought, shut away with him here in this room they’d soon be sharing. And, because they were known to be together, no one would be tactless enough to come looking for them. No one…
The midday sun was pouring in through the high windows, lapping them in heated gold.
She seemed to be sinking helplessly, endlessly, down into the softness of the bed, her lips parting in spite of herself to answer the sensuous pressure of his mouth, to yield to the silken invasion of his tongue.
Inside her thin shirt, her breasts were suddenly blossoming in greedy delight as his kiss deepened in intensity. Her hardening nipples seemed tormented by the graze of the lacy fabric that enclosed them, aching to be free of its constriction.
As if she’d moaned her yearning aloud, she felt his hand begin gently to unfasten the buttons on her shirt.
She lay still, scarcely breathing, the sunlight beating on her closed eyelids, her pulses frantic, waiting—waiting…
Marc was kissing her forehead, brushing the soft hair away from her temples with his lips, discovering the delicate cavity of her ear with his tongue, then feathering caresses down her arched throat to the scented hollow at its base, where he lingered.
His fingers slid inside the open neck of her shirt, pushing it and the thin strap beneath away from her shoulder.
Then he bent his head, and she experienced for the first time the delicious shock of a man’s lips brushing the naked swell of her breast above the concealing lace of her bra, and knew that she wanted more—so much more that it scared her.
She made a small sound, half-gasp, half-sob. For a moment he was very still, then suddenly, unbelievably, she felt him lift himself away from her.
When she had the power to open her dazed eyes she saw that he was standing beside the bed, almost briskly tucking his own shirt back into the waistband of his pants.
‘Je suis désolé,’ he said. ‘But I have arranged to see Alain for his progress report, and I am already late.’
Helen felt as if she’d been hit by a jet of freezing water. She scrambled up on to her knees, feverishly cramming her shirt buttons back into their loops. Restoring herself to decency with a belated attempt at dignity.
Her voice shook a little. ‘I apologise if I’ve caused you any inconvenience.’
‘Au contraire,’ he said, his smile glinting at her. ‘Tu es toute ravissante.’
Anger began to mingle with shock inside her as she met his gaze. The victor, she thought stormily, with his spoils. And she’d nearly—nearly—let him…
She should have been the one to draw back, not him, she realised with shame. Oh, God, how could she have been such a fool?
He paused, glancing at his watch. ‘But the report should not take long,’ he went on softly, outrageously. ‘Perhaps you would like to wait here for my return?’
‘No,’ Helen said between her teeth. ‘I would not.’
One of her shoes had fallen off, and she began to search for it with her bare foot.
‘Quel dommage,’ he commented. ‘I hoped you would show me round the rest of the house. Let me know what you think of the work that has been done so far and of any changes you would like to make.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Helen said icily, ‘but we no longer provide guided tours. And the only change I want is never to see you again.’
He had the gall to grin at her. ‘How fickle you are, cherie. When only a moment ago…’ He shrugged and gave an exaggerated sigh.
‘But your mention of tours has reminded me,’ he added more slowly. ‘As I drove here I met Madame Lowell in the village. She asked if you had told me of her husband’s offer to bless our marriage. I said you had not been able to contact me, but that it was a great kindness of Révérend Lowell, which we would be delighted to accept.’
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