He fisted his hands in the fabric at the small of her back. “You must call me by my Christian name. Colin.”
“Colin,” she whispered, tentative at first. Then with feeling, as she pressed an openmouthed kiss to his temple. “Oh, Colin.”
Oh God. He could hear her moan his name a hundred times, and it wouldn’t be enough.
As they kissed, he rubbed his hands up and down her back. Keeping her close. Warming them both. But after several passes traveling the length of her spine, he couldn’t help but venture further. She still owed him his chance to explore.
He had to get to her. He had to get to the soft, secret part of her, the way she was getting to him.
He slid a palm down her hip, cupping her backside and giving it a brief squeeze. Then he brushed the same hand up her side, slowly dragging his touch over the curve of her hip, the indentation of her waist, the endless ridges of her ribs . . . he could have sworn he counted thirty-four or so . . . and then, at last, the soft, round swell of her breast.
“Colin.” Her gasp told him he’d gone too far.
“Min, I . . .” He rested his brow against hers. He didn’t know how to apologize. He wasn’t sorry for any of it. Not in the least.
She pulled away, blinking at him. “Colin. I can see you.”
The way she spoke the words, in such an awestruck tone, made him wonder for a moment if their kiss had actually cured her weak eyes. That would have been quite a miracle, but he’d be inclined to believe it. He felt rather changed by that kiss, himself.
“It’s light in here,” she said. “I can see you now.” She moved away, reaching for her spectacles.
And he instantly understood what she meant. Without her silhouette blocking his view, he too could see that the tide had receded. Enough so the apex of the underwater entrance was revealed. A beam of sunlight shot through, like gold floss threading the eye of a needle—stabbing Colin straight in the eyes.
“Ah.” He lifted his hand, shielding his eyes from the piercing dawn.
Now that he had a proper look at his surroundings, he could judge that the black, “endless” underwater tunnel he’d been so certain he’d die inside was actually . . . no more than three feet long.
Good God. He rolled his eyes at his own ridiculousness. No wonder she’d doubted his mettle.
“We’ll be able to leave soon,” she said, already up and bustling about. She pursed her lips and blew out the candle. “It’s better that we waited, anyhow. Now I don’t have to trust the oilcloth to keep my notes and papers dry.”
As Colin watched her go about her preparations, he reeled with the strangest emotion. Disappointment. A forceful pang of it.
That made no sense. Light had made its way into the cave. The space was no longer dark. He was going to leave this cramped, miserable hole in the earth in a just a few minutes’ time. And he was disappointed. Disappointed that he couldn’t stay here and kiss her a few hours longer.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
“Most likely.” She folded the blanket with efficient snaps. “And I may be joining you, after what we just did.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. We were merely kissing.” Though he knew there was nothing “mere” about it.
“Well, it can’t happen again.”
Colin pressed a hand to his solar plexus. There it went. That sharp pang of disappointment. This cave was just full of surprises.
She stared at the footprint and her notes. Then she looked up at him, deftly winding her hair into a knot.
“We’ll leave tomorrow,” she said, speaking around a mouthful of hairpins. “We must, if we’re to have any hope of reaching Edinburgh in time.”
He shook his head. “Pet, I thought I’d made myself understood. I—”
“I agree to your conditions. All of them. You can ride out. We won’t travel at night. And the part about the bed . . . ?” A faint wash of pink touched her cheeks. “That too. But we’ll need to leave tomorrow, if we’re going to make the symposium.”
He swallowed hard. The part about the bed . . . ? He really wished she hadn’t said that.
Colin had rules for himself where women were concerned. So far he’d always followed them, and his remaining self-respect dangled on that slim cord. But this was different. She was different, in ways he couldn’t yet define. He usually didn’t find innocence so alluring, but in her case it was sweetened by bold, unabashed curiosity. Given the opportunity, he wasn’t sure he could resist. And weeks of travel would present many, many opportunities.
Right this moment, he was entertaining a quite vivid fantasy of unwinding that knot in her hair, stripping that drab linen from her body, peeling away any layers of modesty beneath . . . and leaving those spectacles on. So she’d see him. So she’d know just who was making her twist and pant and moan with pleasure. So she’d watch each and every wince of pleasure on his face as he pushed into—