"Would that be so terrible?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" He was half afraid of her answer.
"If my reputation were tarnished, perhaps I would not then be troubled by any more unwanted suitors."
"You are quite mistaken in me if you think I would do such a thing," he replied tersely.
She had no idea the torture she was putting him through. What she'd just implied, that she was willing to be compromised, was pushing him perilously close to the breaking point. He was an honorable man, but a man nevertheless—made of flesh and blood.
"I'm sorry." She bit her lip. "It was a foolish thing to say. But I am no one. Why would anyone bother themselves with me?"
"You don't understand how it is," he said. "This world is full of malicious people, Mariah. To those who live meaningless lives, spreading gossip and fomenting scandal is the ultimate in entertainment."
"I have nothing in common with such people," she said. "I hate falseness and malice. I'm very sorry I came here."
"Are you?" he asked softly. "I'm not. If you hadn't come, I never would have had the delight of getting to know you, and that would have been a tragedy for me."
"But what does it matter? It's unlikely that we'll ever see each other again after tomorrow."
His gaze narrowed. "After tomorrow?"
"Yes. In the morning, I intend to pack my belongings. I'm returning to Morehaven."
"You're leaving?"
"Yes. I am needed at home."
“But you can't leave so soon," he protested. "I promised to teach you about cricket. I could never break my word to a lady. I have my reputation to protect."
His effort at levity only seemed to annoy her. “Your reputation?" She gave a snort of indignation. "Is that all that matters to you, Mr. Needham? What others think?"
"Not at all," he replied. "In truth, most of them can go to the devil for all I care."
"Then why are you afraid to be alone with me?" she asked softly.
"I'm only trying to protect you from those who live to destroy others," he answered.
His chest squeezed as her gaze grew misty. "I don't belong here. Don't you understand? Can you even imagine how it feels to be sought out only because you have property and a fortune? How will I ever know if someone actually cares for me?"
Nick stifled a groan. The anguish in her beautiful blue-green eyes unraveled his last threads of self-restraint. He drew her into his arms, knowing he was making a mistake, maybe the biggest of his life, but the kiss was his fate. It was as inevitable as the rising sun and as unstoppable as the ocean tide.
"How will you know?" He moved in slowly, deliberately, until their faces were mere inches apart, until the sweet sough of her breath caressed his face. He couldn't hold himself back now if his next breath depended on it. "This is how."
Cupping her face with both hands, he finally claimed the soft, sweet lips that had tormented him since he'd seen her in Lady Russell's garden. Her kiss was the tenderest torture. Although unschooled, her lips were indescribably sweet. He wanted to lose himself in the drugging pleasure of them forever. He resisted the urge to probe with his tongue, knowing if he took this any further, he'd never be able to pull away, and he had to. He couldn't let it go on. One long and lingering kiss was all he would allow himself . . . because anything more could never be enough.
***
As Nick's warm hands held her face, Mariah shut her eyes, wishing for the kiss with all of her being. His musk-and-bergamot scent wafted over her, teasing her senses just before his lips brushed over hers. It was her first kiss, and he was the only man she'd ever dreamt of kissing. Soft and warm, delicious and divine, his mouth moved over hers, sending rapturous ripples racing through her body. Was there ever anything more wonderful than his kiss? Their mingling breaths made her light-headed and giddy, and she wanted it to go on and on forever, but just as she thought he would deepen the kiss, he slowly disengaged and withdrew. She opened her eyes to find him staring back with a dazed look.
"Lady Mariah," he began helplessly, "I am so sorry. I never should have—"
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because it's dishonorable when I can't offer you marriage."
"But I told you I don't wish to talk of marriage. I don't wish to talk at all. I only want you to kiss me again. Please, Nick," she pleaded softly. "Will you kiss me again?"
He shook his head and mumbled, "I'm sorry." Turning abruptly away, he strode toward the terrace door.
Her stomach knotted at the realization that she'd just thrown herself at a man who'd only kissed her out of pity. How could she have been so stupid to think he might care for her? Her throat and eyes burned. This entire night was just too much to bear. She tried to hold back the tears, but suddenly it was impossible to keep them at bay. Stifling a sob, she gathered up her skirts and fled down the stairs and into the gardens.